


The Arrogance of the Broken

by MeglomaniaAndFear



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, Alcohol, Angst, Armitage Hux Has Feelings, Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, Armitage Hux is Not Nice, Armitage Hux pain train, But not alcoholism, Emperor Armitage Hux, Eventual Romance, Gingerpilot, M/M, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Spoilers, just the characters drink occasionally
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:55:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22075825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeglomaniaAndFear/pseuds/MeglomaniaAndFear
Summary: What if Poe decided he couldn't just leave Hux to face a firing squad lead by Pryde? And then Poe, Finn, Hux and Chewie ended up embarking on a space odyssey/mission together? Read to find out.Eventual Hux/Poe (gingerpilot) TROS fix-it that deviates from the events of TROS at the moment when Finn shoots Hux.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Comments: 134
Kudos: 261





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know your thoughts! quinnwrites on tumblr.

“Shoot me in the arm.” Hux commanded, “Otherwise they’ll know I’m the spy.”

Finn raised his blaster, feinted towards Hux’s upper arm, then shot him straight in the thigh. Hux crumpled sideways with the impact of the blast. Blood surfaced hotly from the smoking wound of semi-cauterized flesh. He reached down reflexively to apply pressure to it, as his eyes followed the trail of dark crimson drips hitting the black plastisteel flooring. 

Finn was already climbing into the millennium falcon, when he turned back to Hux, “Wait, why? Why help us?”

Hux’s features twisted themselves into a sneer of disgust, “I don’t care if you win. I just need Kylo Ren to lose!”

Poe’s head popped up behind Finn. “Be that as it may, we can’t just leave General Petty Bitch here to his fate. They’ll still figure out that he was the spy and they’ll kill him for his troubles.”

“And why do you care, Rebel Scum?”

“A life debt is a life debt.” Poe replied evenly.

“You cannot be serious! He destroyed the Hosnian system!” Finn butted in.

Chewbacca roared his agreement.

“He was probably ordered to give that speech, we can’t know whose idea starkiller was in the first place.”

“It was my idea.”

“Not helping, Hugs.”

“He admitted it was his idea! Why can’t we leave him behind, please Poe, he’s General Starkiller.”

“Leia wouldn’t leave him behind.” Poe said with softly spoken finality.

Finn gave an entirely over-dramatic (in Hux’s opinion) sigh then stooped down and spread out his open arms towards Hux. The thought that perhaps the former FN-2187 was trying to hug him crossed his blood-depleted mind, but then he was being hefted onto the man’s shoulder and carried bodily into the interior of the millennium falcon. 

Finn dropped Hux unceremoniously onto a white plastic chair a fair distance from the falcon’s cockpit. The wound pulsed in agony at the rough landing. Still, he’d had worse. Far worse. Repressing a shudder Hux pulled up his uniform top to begin to rip a strip from his undershirt. He observed Finn and the great furry beast conversing quietly in wookiee from the opposite side of the millennium falcon’s living space, but he couldn’t understand them, wookiee being one of the few languages he had never bothered to learn. They shot the odd glare his way but he ignored them. Hux finally felt the last few fibres of the swathe of fabric he was attempting to detach from his undershirt give way and, fabric in hand, he leant over to begin bandaging his wound when he found Poe staring at his previously exposed stomach from across the living area.

“What?”

“How did you get those scars on your stomach? They look like b-”

Hux interrupted Poe with a glare so sour it could curdle bantha milk. “How do you think your comrades felt in their last moments when they knew they would die trying to bomb a dreadnought under your orders, Commander Dameron?”

“You son of a bitch!” Poe lunged at Hux, who attempted to dodge the punch but wasn’t fast enough and instead took the hit on his jaw bone, the impact ringing in his ears.

Poe straightened, shaking his hand out from the impact. He stormed into the cockpit. Hux’s hand automatically rose to his face to assess the new injury. Nothing felt broken but he could already tell it would bruise badly. He’d still had worse.

“I wish Rey would hurry up. She shouldn’t have gone off on her own.” Poe groused moments later, from his seat at the Falcon’s flight controls.

“We’re not leaving without her,” Finn replied quickly.

“I know we’re not buddy, I know we’re not. But the sooner we can drop this loser off on some unpopulated planet where he can’t do too much damage, the better.”

Hux busied himself tending his wounds as best he could with no supplies whilst Poe flicked switches and piloted the space craft just out of the Finalizer’s hangar. Finn paced, wringing his hands and muttering something under his breath. To Hux it sounded like “why isn’t she here yet”. His lip curled. He could really do without being trapped on a small spacecraft with another unstable kriffing force user who couldn’t follow her general’s orders.

“Be prepared to help Rey onboard Finn, I’m going to keep us hovering here until we can grab her and get out of here.”

“I can see her! Rey! Rey!” Finn was frantic.

Distantly Hux could hear Ren’s voice speaking to Rey. He froze entirely. He heard Kylo offering Rey his hand. Offering her power over the galaxy like he never had to Hux. And yet the anger Hux tried to summon into himself never materialised. He just felt a kind of cold terror invade his bones. Perhaps Ren would realise how nearby Hux was, how close to escaping him. Perhaps he’d feel it in the Force, that was something force users could do, wasn’t it? Perhaps he’d drag Hux back and all the pain would start again, or he’d finally choke Hux all the way to death. 

Neither happened. Hux was almost disappointed. But he was soon tugged from his maudlin thoughts by the unmistakeable sound of a lightsaber being drawn. A split second later the blue glow was swishing towards him. It halted its bright arc of motion just millimetres away from his exposed neck.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you Hux?” Rey spat.

“Because he saved our lives.” Poe said, as though the words were dragged from him without his full consent.

The saber didn’t move at all. “Why?” 

“He’s the first order spy. He just wants to bring Kylo Ren down.” Finn stated just as reluctantly and with a touch of distaste.

“She’s just like him. I knew she would be.” Hux said, attempting to sound disappointed instead of scared.

Rey wheeled back in shock at Hux’s words, and her saber turned off. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Poe piloted them beyond the finalizer’s gravitational pull and the falcon shot into lightspeed, stars streaking past the viewports like a million technicolour blaster shots.

“You’re a force user.” Hux said, after a pause, certain in his judgement of her.

Rey looked perplexed, then shook herself, “Poe, Finn, what are we doing with him? Taking him to the resistance?”

“Wonderful. I look forward to my sham trial and eventual execution.” Hux muttered dryly.

At that moment they were all alerted to an incoming holocall by a ping from the Millennium Falcon’s dashboard.

“Its General Leia.” Poe informed them, before accepting the call. “Hello General.”

Leia’s hologram stood on the dashboard, flickering in static-ridden blues. She looked very worried, her forehead creased into wrinkles and her hands wringing each other almost nervously.  
“Commander Dameron, I have an urgent request.” 

“Okay, we’ve rescued Chewie and we’re heading back. We’ve also got – “

Leia cut him off with a hurried “That’s great news, but I’m sorry I’m in a rush. You can’t head back yet, I’ve heard from a spy that a large shipment of canons with enough power in each to destroy planets is headed to Exegol. I need you to intercept the shipment before they can attach the cannons to their fleet. Destroy the plant too if you can, we can’t let them make more. Its on a planet called Nidan, I’m sending you co-ordinates now. I’ve got to go now, thank you Commander. Oh, and Commander, time is of the essence in this mission. I need you to get this done yesterday.”

The line went dead and Leia’s hologram abruptly dissipated. Poe looked each of his friends in the eye, one by one. They all shared concerned glances, but no one voiced their worry at seeing Leia so ruffled. Hux assumed they didn’t want to discus their concerns in front of an ‘enemy’.

“You heard the General. Let’s get going.” Poe finally declared.

“What about Hux?” Finn asked.

Hux looked up with mild interest.

“I guess he has to come with us.”

“I need to go.” Rey announced.

“Surely you don’t hate Hux that much?” Poe asked her.

Chewie roared something that made Poe smirk.

“Its not that, there’s somewhere else I need to be. The force is telling me. We’ll see each other again soon.”

“It’s funny how often the force tells its chosen ones that they don’t need to do as they’re told.” Hux muttered.

“Shut it, Red.” Poe snarked.

“We’re really taking him with us?” Finn asked.

“We don’t have time to find somewhere to dump him. So, yeah.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its another short chapter this time, sorry. I promise they'll get a little bit longer soon. 
> 
> Also, I'll start putting trigger warnings on from now on in the notes, I don't think any apply here (aside from the usual canon-typical violence and a bit of swearing).

Poe inputted the co-ordinates to Nidan that General Organa had sent. It should take them four days to reach the planet, which the Falcon’s computer told him would be rainy, cold and covered in a wide range of flora, with little in the way of fauna. That sounded fine to him, he’d certainly handled missions on less hospitable planets.

“Should take us four days to reach Nidan.” Poe informed Finn and Chewie.

Finn strolled over from his seat by the holochess table and leaned on the back of Chewie’s seat in the cockpit. Chewie was leaning back from the controls, reclining in his chair, now that they had successfully left the orbit of the Finalizer. Poe glanced behind him to where Hux had finished bandaging his wound and had fallen asleep.

“What will we do about Hux? Do we just leave him on the Falcon when we go to the factory?” Finn asked, following Poe’s line of vision.

“Well, hopefully we can shoot down any transport ships carrying the canons to Exegol. Then, when it comes time to destroy the factory we’ll have to take him with us. We can’t leave him on the Falcon, he’ll probably steal it and leave us stranded.”

Chewie roared loudly. Finn and Poe looked around to see if this had awoken Hux but he was somehow still soundly asleep.

“I agree with Chewie,” Finn said, “We can’t trust Hux as far as we can throw him. We can’t take him to the production plant, there will be people working there, he could convince them to kill us and help him escape.”

“To what end? Did you miss the part where I saved your sorry lives, FN-2187?” Hux asked, back once again ram-rod straight.

“He wasn’t asleep was he?” Finn asked irritably. “And its Finn – F-i-n-n.”

“Everyone in the Resistance has a real name. We’re people, not resources.” Poe pointedly informed Hux.

“Fine. Finn.” Hux growled, “Not that that kind of useless sentimentality will get you anywhere. But anyway, my point still stands, what would I gain from hurting you now? And why would I go back to the First Order? They’ll think I’ve defected by now. They’ve probably worked out that I’m the spy. I have nothing to go back to.”

“Haven’t you? Defected I mean?” Finn asked.

“I still believe in the founding goals of the First Order. But Kylo Ren is unfit to lead, as long as he leads the First Order I will work with you to bring him down.”

“Why do you hate Kylo Ren so much, anyway?” Poe asked, “Some kind of history there?”

Hux raised an eyebrow sardonically, as though daring Poe to continue. But beneath the derision Poe sensed that Hux was livid. He was almost shaking and his face had shifted from pale to flushed. Definitely history there then. 

Eventually Poe looked away from Hux, growing exhausted of being glared at. His gaze awkwardly swooped around the interior of the Millenium Falcon before settling back onto Hux, “What do you want to do then? Regarding the mission. You could help us?” he asked softly.

Finn shot an angry and betrayed look at Poe.

“I’m sorry buddy, but I think we have to give him a chance. He’s been helping us so far. And he does genuinely hate Kylo Ren.”

“Fine.” Finn sighed.

“Good. You’ve finally seen sense.” Hux nodded, before drawing himself up to a stand and folding his arms behind his back, “They send the canons to Exegol as and when they produce them, so there should only be one transport loaded with shipments leaving the factory each day. Each transport will have a guard of 6 TIEs, but I’ve seen Dameron take down more than that so that shouldn’t be a problem. The factory is located at 52.92° N by 1.47° W. There are some forest-covered hills around 10km North West from the site. I suggest you enter the atmosphere North of the factory and that we land on a hill and walk the rest of the way. The factory will be heavily guarded, we need to make the most of our element of surprise. What weapons do you have availa . . . What?”

“You have all that memorized, Hugs?”

“Of course I do.” Hux said, bewildered.

“Huh, not just a pretty face.” Poe surmised. 

Finn shot Poe a disgusted look and Chewie roared in agreement.

Hux bristled, “Anyway, we’ll need to take out as many of their guards as we can from a distance, to minimize the threat before we enter the building. From there the canons will be easy to sabotage. I suggest you leave that to me, unless you have any engineering training, Dameron?”

“You know how to sabotage a canon?” Finn said sceptically.

“I’m a trained engineer. Remind me, what was your main job on the Finalizer, FN-2187? Oh yes, sanitation.” Hux said, lip curled in disgust.

“Yeah, I thought you just got the General gig because of your dad, he was big in the Empire, right?” Poe asked.

“I single-handedly designed Starkiller base,” Hux hissed through bared teeth, “and I hope every last sentient ally of yours in the Hosnian system died in terror.”

This time it was Finn who went to punch Hux, but he was held back by Chewbacca, who roared angrily.

“He just gets more and more charming the longer you talk to him, doesn’t he?” Poe said, feeling revulsion churn in his stomach. 

He couldn’t fathom why the innocent question had gotten such a nasty response. Alright, he could see that maybe it was slightly insulting, the implication that Hux hadn’t worked for his position, but really? Why that level of anger?

“When the canons are broken, we’ll need to delete the blue-prints from their system so that they cannot just make more. Then I suggest a quick exit before they send troopers in to investigate the disturbance.” Hux seemed to fight with himself internally before managing to modulate his voice into something approaching calm.

“Couldn’t they just design them again?” Finn wondered aloud, detaching himself from Chewbacca’s hold and also calming down.

“Not possible. The design is based on the blueprints I created for Starkiller base, which only I can access, or allow others access to. Without me they shouldn’t be able to recreate them.” Hux stated.

“Oh.”

“Well, I don’t know about you lot but this conversation has me in need of a drink. We have four more days to kill of doing nothing, we might as well have a little fun today.” Poe said.

Hux looked as though Poe had suggested drinking Sarlacc shit. “I’d rather not. Is there somewhere I can sleep?”

“Sure, there’s bunks through here” Poe said walking over to a door at the back of the living space and nudging it open with his foot to reveal a small sleeping space complete with bunk beds and not a lot else.

Hux nodded stiffly and quickly disappeared inside.

“Well, that was weird.” Poe stated.

“This whole situation is weird.” Finn agreed.

Chewie roared and lifted up one of the large bottles of Jet Juice that Poe had stashed in the Millenium Falcon a long time ago in the hopes of having something to celebrate some time soon.

“Should we drink though? What about Hux? Is it safe to drink with him nearby?” Finn asked.

“Its like he said, he’s not going to kill us, he could have just let us die earlier today if he wanted that.” Poe reassured.

“For the record, I don’t think this is a good idea.” Finn stated. “That said, I’ll have a shot.”

Chewie clapped him on the back and roared happily. Poe began to measure out the Jet Juice.

\- a while later - 

The three continued to drink as stars zoomed past the view port in constellations of moving colours. At one point Poe (the only rebel facing their sleeping quarters) saw Hux emerge from the bunk room and clamber down into the mechanics of the Falcon. But he quickly put the thought that Hux was doing anything untoward out of his mind. He was probably looking for the bathroom and had gone the wrong way. He was about to helpfully shout directions out to him when Finn said something hilarious and he got caught up in laughing. By the time he had hiccuped his laughter away he had entirely forgotten that Hux wasn’t still asleep in his bunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so happy with the lovely comments on the first chapter. Thank you all :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: mild suicidal ideation, slight reference to past sexual abuse
> 
> That said I actually think this is quite a fun chapter to read, Hux gets drunk. 
> 
> I'll keep posting trigger warnings on each chapter and if you ever need to skip a chapter but want to stay with the story message me on tumblr and I'll fill you in on what you've missed in the chapter (hopefully without triggering you). I'm meglomaniaandfear on tumblr :)

Hux reconnected the last few wires he’d been detaching and soldering into different positions within the ship’s engine. He then quietly put the tools back in the positions he had memorised them to be laid out in before he began. He dusted off his ruined uniform. He couldn’t do anything about the blaster hole and the bloody mess surrounding it, but at least he didn’t have flux and stray wire off-cuts on his once pristine uniform now.

His alterations to the Millenium Falcon’s engines would slow their rag-tag group down enough that the journey should take almost twice as long. Though he regretted the necessity of spending more time amongst the rebel scum, arriving in a week rather than four days would mean that Allegiant General Pryde would be at the Factory on a supervisory visit, and that would provide him with the perfect opportunity to shoot the bastard from a safe distance. With Pryde out of the way (and a few of his key supporters – who’d have to be dealt with later), Hux would be welcomed back to the Steadfast with open arms by a crew in desperate need of efficient leadership. Well, aside from Kylo Ren, who certainly wouldn’t welcome him back. But Hux would think of a plan to deal with that son of a bitch too; he had to, or Kylo would kill him before he could set a plan into action to take him down. Then everything would be for nothing. Hux didn’t mind if his plotting got him killed, so long as Ren died too it would be worth it. 

Hux climbed back up the ladder into the Millennium Falcon’s living space and caught sight of Dameron, FN-2187 and the beast laughing and talking drunkenly. He wondered if the rebels knew anything he didn’t about Kylo, it seemed unlikely that they had gathered more intel on the man than he had, when he had worked beside him for years, but it was worth a shot. Perhaps he’d find out something that could be used against the hulking idiot. He’d have to talk with them, maybe even befriend them a little. He shuddered.

As Hux approached the group they glanced around at him with slight hostility but otherwise ignored him. He took a seat between FN-2187 and Dameron, deliberately opposite Chewbacca in the hopes that the table between them would provide some measly protection should the beast decide to attack him.

FN-2187 was speaking emotionally about something, “… I just wonder sometimes, what they’re doing, how they live, if they’re happy … I wonder if one day I’ll meet them, or walk past them in some space station, and not even know its them, not even know I’ve met my family.”

Dameron shot Hux a glare which slowly turned contemplative, “Hey Hugs, you have any idea where your lot abducted Finn from?”

“No Dameron, I don’t have the backstories of every one of the thousands of stormtroopers in the First Order memorized.” Hux informed him coolly.

“But you do have exact co-ordinates for every First Order weapons factory memorized?” Dameron asked.

“I have a great deal of strategically useful information memorized, yes.” Hux answered, bemused.

“He doesn’t have a shred of humanity in him does he?” Dameron asked the Traitor.

“It doesn’t matter Poe, I knew he wouldn’t be able to help.” FN-2187 dropped his head into his hands.

“I don’t see why you care so much. The First Order gives children a sense of purpose and a supportive peer group. I can assure you, family is an over-rated and archaic establishment that allows selfish, cruel and ill-suited individuals to rear children.” 

Hux reached for the bottle of Jet Juice and drank directly from it, ignoring the glasses stood on the games table. He only placed the bottle back down on the table when he had drained it. His throat felt like it was on fire and he nearly coughed. Hux didn’t make a habit of drinking alcohol. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, hating the slovenliness of the gesture.

“Ok then …” FN-2187 said, wide-eyed.

“I guess someone had a rough childhood, hey Hugs?” Dameron asked, both playful and … perhaps genuinely slightly concerned, Hux thought. Strange.

“You could say that.” Hux acquiesced with a slight nod.

Hux felt his cheeks colour with embarrassment, he was already feeling a little dizzy from the alcohol and it seemed he was being indiscreet already too. He shouldn't let these people see his weaknesses. They were the enemy … like everyone these days now that he had sort-of-defected, Hux supposed. Unless he could take Kylo Ren, Pryde, Palpatine and all of their supporters out of the equation… He certainly had his work cut out. He hiccuped.

Hux refocused his eyes on his fellow drinkers to find that FN-2187 and Dameron had been whispering to each other across the table whilst he was thinking about his many enemies.

“What was your plan after you helped us onto the Falcon, Hux? Finn and I were wondering.” Dameron asked, though Hux sensed that it was really FN-2187’s question but that the former trooper was a little nervous to directly address him when he wasn’t buoyed by the confidence-giving power of righteous anger.

“There wasn’t one.” Hux replied honestly, reaching for the second bottle of Jet Juice, uncorking it and pouring a measure out into a glass. He still had some dignity to preserve. He was angry at himself for downing the Jet Juice even through the haze of the slightly-spinning room.

The beast roared in disbelief.

“Yeah, I agree Chewie. You’re a smart, self-serving guy Hugs. You must have had some idea of how you’d save your skin.”

Hux downed the glass in his hand, it barely burned his throat this time, “The plan was to die.”

“You want to die?” FN-2187 asked cautiously.

“No, not now. But I was out of options, I watched everything I had worked so hard for my whole life stolen from just within my grasp by that monster, Kylo Ren. Everything I believed in; corrupted and used for his selfish ends. I spent my life striving for order in the galaxy, and it was all so that a kriffing unstable nerf herder could bring chaos down on us all.”

Hux shook himself, he hadn’t meant to be so honest. He was giving these rebels far too much ammunition that they could use against him.

“I always thought you were the only person on the Finalizer who wasn’t afraid of Kylo Ren. You seemed to even tolerate him at times. He never threw you around like the other officers as far as I was aware. What happened?” FN-2187 asked, his whole posture stiff with caution, as though speaking to a wounded but dangerous animal.

“I might be intoxicated,” Hux slurred, “but you’ll have to get your force-user girlfriend to invade my mind if you want the answer to that question. I’ll never tell a soul.”

“She doesn’t invade people’s minds!” FN-2187 replied hotly, “She’s also not my girlfriend.” he added as an afterthought. 

“You think she’s your friend. You liiiike her,” Hux slurred, “You think she won’t invade your thoughts, hurt you, read your mind? Make you do things?” Hux asked, speech almost sing-song.

“She won’t. She’s one of the good guys.”

“She’s a force user.” Hux sneered, “you might think she cares about you in some small way, but all they care about is power. I know.”

With that Hux stood to leave, he wasn’t getting any useful information from this conversation, he was just embarrassing himself. On reaching his standing-height flickers of light assaulted his vision and he felt faint. He swayed slightly. 

“Ok, Hugs. I gotcha.” Dameron stood up to catch Hux.

Hux pouted and tried to bat Poe’s arms away. Poe swept him up in his arms, bridal-style.

“I’m taking you to bed.” Poe informed him.

“Haven’t even been on a date.” Hux helpfully pointed out.

“Not like that Hugs, you’ve drunk too much.”

“But if I … hadn’t?”

“If you hadn’t drunk so much you wouldn’t be propositioning me.” Poe said. “I’m rebel scum, remember?”

Hux attempted a wink, but his facial muscles weren’t quite obeying him, “I like your face, rebel scum.”

“Did you just try and wink at me?” Poe paused in his tracks to the bunk room “… it is definitely bed time,” he resumed walking, but thin laugh lines crinkled near his eyes as though he was trying not to laugh.

Hux sighed and wriggled to be closer to Poe’s nice-smelling jumper. He did not snuggle. He did not.

Soon, Hux was being gently lowered into the bottom bunk by strong arms. His last view before he fell asleep for the first time in days was of gentle, twinkling eyes. His sleep was dreamless for the first time in years.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe has some spare time and ends up thinking more than he would have liked.  
> Hux gets to tell people what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Ooops?
> 
> I don't really have a good excuse for the 3 month gap between this chapter and the last, but I promise I'm not giving up on this fic yet!

“What the kriff was that about?” Finn asked as Poe re-entered the living space.

“If you think you’re confused, imagine how I feel.” Poe attempted to joke, but he knew he just ended up sounding concerned.

He sat down heavily.

“Disgusted, at a guess. Maybe we should stop drinking.” Finn said, beginning to clear away the bottles and glasses.

“Yeah,” Poe replied distractedly, staring into the distance.

The truth was, he didn’t feel disgusted. Sometimes, when he’d retired to his bed alone after flying his x-wing, when he still had adrenaline racing through his veins, he imagined what would happen if he was ever caught and interrogated by General Hux. He imagined seducing the figure of discipline and absolute First Order authority. Being dominated by him or reducing him to desperate cries of lust. But these secret sexual fantasies were only ever meant to be fantasies. Now that Hux was actually here and had even flirted with him he felt very uncomfortable about having ever let himself think that way. Mostly he felt guilty, as though now that Hux was actually here in person, having ever thought about him that way meant he had betrayed the resistance. Whereas before, it hadn’t mean anything, now those thoughts meant … something. He couldn’t even honestly say that on meeting the General properly he was no longer attracted to him. He was prettier in person, even despite the near-constant frown or sneer.

And then there was the fact that Hux was a mess. Poe was genuinely concerned for the man. He knew it was stupid, he shouldn’t care about Hux’s well-being given the atrocities he had committed: there wasn’t a sentient in the galaxy with more blood on their hands. He shouldn’t care; and yet he did. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Hux hadn’t complained once about his bruised jaw from the punch Poe had landed earlier, hadn’t even been upset with him, and hadn’t whinged about the blaster wound Finn had shot into his leg even once. He thought it was strange that Hux wasn’t trying to use their maltreatment of him against them somehow. Or that he wasn’t at least rightfully concerned by the injuries. But it was like they didn’t even register with him. He’d imagined that Hux would be a complainer, used to the good life, in control of a battlefield from a safe distance. Perhaps that wasn’t the truth though.

And some of the things Hux had said were concerning too. His jibe at Finn, ‘you think she won’t invade your thoughts, hurt you, read your mind? Make you do things?’: it was clearly Hux projecting his experiences with Kylo Ren onto Rey and Finn’s relationship. And given that he thought Rey was Finn’s girlfriend … It didn’t seem crazy to assume there had been some kind of relationship or tryst between Hux and Kylo Ren. It also didn’t seem crazy to assume that it had turned very sour, that Kylo Ren had hurt Hux. Poe tried to shake himself out of his concern, Hux was a bad guy, the bad guy. Perhaps Kylo was worse, but either way, they deserved each other. And yet, as Poe looked at his hands holding the empty glass he had been drinking from, he felt very sober indeed.

Poe eventually rose from his place at the Falcon’s small circular technically-a-holochess-table that the group had been sat around. He cleared away his own glass, and, after using the fresher, went into the bunk room where Hux was lying stiffly on his back on top of the covers, though clearly fast asleep. Poe stood in the doorway observing Hux for a moment, the yellow-ish lights of the atrium spilling around his silhouette into the room and onto Hux. Hux’s hair had broken free of its pomade in places and a few vibrant strands danced in front of his face with his every exhalation. His hands were folded neatly on top of his chest, as though even in sleep he felt had to look formal. And yet, he looked almost soft, and certainly young, in the warm half-light. Poe violently kicked away the urge to find a blanket to make the ex-general more comfortable. He deserved nothing more than a cold cell.

Poe glanced up to the top bunk, where Chewie was curled up in foetal position, most likely because he didn’t quite fit vertically. Finn was not in the room. Poe assumed he, completely understandably, must have chosen to sleep further away from Hux. Perhaps on a sofa.

Shrugging to himself, Poe climbed into the top bunk opposite Chewie and closed his eyes. 

He rolled over.

He rolled over again. 

The comfort of the bunk’s mattress (or rather, discomfort) had never bothered him before. He was used to sleeping on the ground, in trees, or, most often, in his ex-wing’s cockpit on missions, and he had long ago learnt to make the best of it. He kept thinking about the punch he had landed to Hux’s face. It really shouldn’t bother him. He’d been in fights before with much better people and hadn’t regretted their injuries. Hux was evil incarnate… right? So why had he just stood their unphased, why had he taken the hit without fighting back? Guilt settled heavily in Poe’s gut. 

Poe was one of the good guys, he told himself. Hux was one of the bad guys. Poe would treat him civilly because that was what good people did, even to enemies. And he would give it no more thought. Instead, he began to mentally picture fathiers jumping over fences, with their long legs and triangular flippy ears. He counted seemingly hundreds of imaginary fathiers before he settled into a half-sleep. 

What could not have been more than three or four hours later Poe gave up entirely and went to make himself a mug of caf. He sat at the table and warmed his hands gratefully on his mug, space could feel very cold sometimes and he would find himself missing the temperate jungles of Yavin 4. He absentmindedly fiddled with the ring on the chain around his neck. He looked out the transparisteel viewport at the blur of stars, he thought of his parents. How much he missed them. He hated having time to stop and think about so many things, he was used to a life of action. He almost wished something would happen now that would require some adrenaline-fuelled piloting and he could stop thinking and just be his usual impulsive self. But then he remembered Leia’s jibe about jumping in an X-wing and blowing something up, she might have a slight point - that sometimes thinking isn’t such a bad thing, but mainly he just worried he might not see her again. And Kaydel and Jessika and Snap and the other Black Squadron pilots.

“Not like you to brood.” Finn interrupted Poe’s thoughts, emerging in a nearby doorway which slid open with a slight hiss.

“No, well, it’s just so weird, having Starkiller onboard. How are you doing? Can’t sleep either, huh?” Poe asked.

“Yeah, it’s stupid, I grew up surrounded by those First Order murderers and I never struggled to sleep too much, and now there’s only one on the ship I’m on, and I don’t feel safe.” He swung himself heavily into the seat beside Poe.

“One of the worst though.” Poe said softly, “At least it’s not a Knight of Ren, I guess. I never want my mind invaded again.”

“We’d all be dead if it was. Everyone on the Finalizer used to whisper about them, about how dangerous they were, how intimidating and how excessively violent.”

The doors softly hissed open again. 

“Yes, that was the gossip,” a sharply Imperial-accented voice spoke from the doorway. “But for a long time I thought Ren had just made them up so he didn’t sound like he had no friends. I told him so, recently, and a short while after that conversation a group of most-likely-mercenaries showed up on the Finalizer. Not a force-sensitive among them. I know because I looked into their medical files: their only medical evaluations came from the day after our chat, and none of the so-called ‘Knights of Ren’ had high midi-chlorian counts. I can’t say I was surprised.”

“Wait. Wait. Hold up a minute.” Finn said, his eyes saucer-round. “You’re saying the whole time the Knights of Ren weren’t real!?”

Poe found himself laughing at Kylo Ren’s expense.

Hux raised one eyebrow. “Do you struggle understanding Basic?”

Poe stopped laughing. 

Finn glared at Hux, and Poe watched his excitement extinguish itself like a candle’s flame neatly pinched between a gloved thumb and finger. 

Hux seemed unphased, staring out into space through the transparisteel viewport behind Poe and Finn. His eyes widened minutely.

“Dameron, get to the cock pit, now. FN-2187, man the gunners.” Hux suddenly barked, he was met with confusion and silence. “What are you waiting for?! Now.” 

“Uhh, any particular reason you want us to do that Hux? Because you’re not really in a position to be giving orders around here…” Poe said slowly.

A blast skimmed off the side of the Falcon’s shields and shook the whole ship. A roar emanated from the bunk room and Chewbacca rushed out looking angry and confused.

Poe ran to the cockpit with a cry of “Pirates!” to inform Chewie of what they could all now see: several heavily armed pirate ships, distant, but getting closer alarmingly quickly, and beginning to fire upon the Falcon.

Chewie followed Poe to take the co-pilot seat. Meanwhile Finn scrambled to the gunner’s position.

“Finn, open fire on the nearest ship as soon as it gets within range.” Poe commanded still fumbling to secure his comm on his ear and steering sharply upward to dodge another incoming shot.

“Belay that order. Concentrate all fire on the mothership, aim for the i-7x sensor.” Hux shouted, also having found a spare comm.

“The what?” Finn responded directly into all their ears.

“The round protrusion above the ship.” Hux stated calmly.

“Ignore him, fire on the nearest pirates, anything you can hit.” Poe said loudly, he turned to glare at Hux “What are you saying!? All the fire is coming from the nearer ships.”

“And they’ll all stop functioning if you hit the mothership in the i-7x sensor. Take that out and their cannons go offline.”

“Poe, who am I listening to?” Finn asked with a note of panic in his voice.

If he hadn’t need to continual dodge ion-cannon fire Poe might have put his head in his hands in dismay, as it was his groaned inwardly before saying, almost against his own will, “Follow Hux’s commands.”

Chewie growled, indignant. Finn muttered something into his comm Poe couldn’t quite make out, but he heard the scraping of the Falcon’s gunner unit swivelling against the hull of the ship and watched blasts begin to fire from below the cockpit out into space. He continued to twist and spin the falcon out of the way of enemy blasts, which lit up the expanse of space in brilliant shades of red and green. 

Poe started to notice that Finn’s fire wasn’t quite in range of the pirate mothership. Instead, it dissipated almost gently against their shields.

It seemed Hux had noticed to, because just as Poe was thinking that he ordered, “Poe get in closer to the mothership, you’re using Arakyd ST2 concussion missiles, you need to be within 300 meters of the mothership to get through their shielding and take out that sensor.”

“Yes sir,” he said, only slightly sarcastic, “getting in closer.”

Poe dodged and swivelled the ship in a way that he knew would seem erratic to others, but which there was actually a kind of adrenaline-fueled optimistic logic to. A few twists turns and sharp accelerations later, Poe had them in close enough to the mothership. Finn fired one shot straight through the motherships’ shielding and out the other side, just skimming slightly past the body of the ship. His second shot managed to land a hit on the sensor. 

In response, space suddenly dimmed. The pirate’s ion cannons on all 7 ships had simultaneously stopped firing. Instead, the pirate ships hung in space, stupidly still, as though they too couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. 

“What?!” Finn shouted down the comm, sounding thrilled. Poe could imagine he had air punched.

“Shoot them down now that they can’t fight back!” Hux instructed.

Poe sat back in his chair as the pirate ships began popping back into lightspeed away from them, “Let them run away, we’re fine.”

“Let them run away?! So that they can attack again in the future?” Hux said, the emotionless front he had seemingly put on whilst commanding having evaporated to be replaced with an incensed expression.

“We don’t kill people for no good reason in the resistance Hux.”

“They’re bloody pirates!”

“And they were retreating.”

“This is why the resistance will never win. Too charitable.” He spat, “Too weak.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm already working on chapter 5 and I have this whole story plotted out so there are some (I hope) exciting twists and turns that I have yet to bring you. If you want to shout at me for the slow update I'm at https://quinnwrites.tumblr.com/


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings apply to this chapter. Apart from a bit of swearing I guess. Apologies for any inaccuracies to SW lore - I'm only well versed in the sequel trilogy and have only seen TROS twice (when it first came out), I haven't managed to get it on DVD yet.

“Uh-huh. Yep. Compassion, doing the right thing, weakness. Sure.” Dameron said drily, arms folded, in response to Hux’s criticism of the Resistance.

Dameron didn’t even look angry. He just continued to frown at Hux, looking faintly disappointed and thoroughly unsurprised. It was even more enraging than being on the receiving end of impudent glaring or righteous anger. Like it wasn’t even worth his energy to argue properly with Hux.

FN-2187 chose that moment to pop up through the hatch that led down into the gunner’s chair, with a cry of “We did it!”

This served to shatter the icy glare Hux was directing at Dameron. Hux was reminded, briefly, and quite absurdly, of an ancient toy he’d had back on Arkanis: a Jack-in-the-Box. It had been a gift from his mother, before she left the Hux family’s service, when he was four. He remembered the two of them playing with archaic toys, her soft voice and sad eyes as she sung him to sleep, and the fiery colours of her long braided hair. Hux always tried to shake his thoughts from his mother because it was foolishness to think about, to care about, someone who had willingly walked out on him. But he was a grown man, who, until a day ago, had been in command of the galaxy’s biggest fleet. He didn’t need his mother’s love. And his reticence to think about her certainly wasn’t because wondering what was so wrong with him that she left her only child behind to find a new life could sometimes bring him to tears. It didn’t, at all.

“…Okaayy.” FN-2187 said as he sauntered towards them, “bit of an atmosphere up here. What did I miss?”

“Just General Petty telling us to kill retreating pirates. Apparently its weak not to kill people for no good reason. So just the kind of conversation you’d expect really.” Dameron informed FN-2187.

“Well, they could attack again?” Hux voiced weakly, his statement almost sounding like a question. The fight had left him as he absurdly wondered what his mother would have commanded. Probably that they ran away before engaging in the first place. Hux himself didn’t run at the first sign of conflict; he was made of tougher stuff.

FN-2187 glared at Hux for a moment, but his glare too seemed to lack energy. After a moment he relented and arranged his features into a more passive expression.

“Well,” FN-2187 said hesitantly, “When we’re not arguing, we actually made a halfway decent team.” 

Hux suspected FN-2187 had been going to clap him on the back as he walked past to stand with his fellow Rebels. Hux disguised his resulting flinch as a disgusted shuffle away from the contact. Honestly, why were these people so keen on unnecessary touching?

The beast roared something from next to Dameron. He and FN-2187 both turned to look at Hux expectantly. Hux looked back blankly.

“I don’t speak shyriiwook.”

“Right. Chewie says how’d you know about the sensor in the pirate’s mothership?” Dameron translated.

“I worked as an engineer as well as a General in the First Order. I don’t believe I should say anymore.”

“Why?” FN-2187 said dubiously.

Dameron looked at him searchingly, “He thinks we’re going to torture him for information after Nidan.” He finally stated, arms folded, as though… disappointed?

Hux raised an eyebrow pointedly. “Aren’t you?”

“No, of course not. You won’t even be in a cell, even though I’m sure you’ve got your own agenda and that I’ll live to regret this, you saved our lives and gave us valuable intel. That sort of thing is not lightly forgotten in the resistance.” Hux heard the ‘even though its you’ that went unsaid in Dameron’s tone.

“That compassion really will be your side’s undoing.” Hux said, not nearly as venomously as intended.

“Its not compassion, its decency. And a lack of basic decency on your side is why you’ll always have rebellions to deal with, no matter where you conquer.”

Hux vehemently disagreed. Rebellions happened where rulers had not been strong and vicious enough against dissenters. Not the opposite. Then he thought of Brendol Hux: how the endless beatings, humiliation and verbal berating had led the younger Hux to take pleasure in Brendol’s murder… 

…But that analogy was ridiculous, wasn’t it? It wasn’t because Brendol had been too harsh of a disciplinarian that he had ultimately been deposed by his own son, it was because he had been in the way of Hux’s success. Certainly, revenge had only been the smallest of Hux’s motivations. Overall, Hux had been stronger and more vicious and he would be a better leader. Brendol and his coterie of like-minded officers were just in the way. Of course rebellions weren’t caused by decisive blows against enemies; they were prevented by decisive blows against enemies.

“What will you do with me?” Hux asked, realising he’d been silent a while and had to keep these… people … thinking he would be returning to their base with them (it was harder to think of them as scum with the endorphins of having commanded a successful battle – however small - still running through his veins). They should think that he didn’t have better plans. No agenda. Privately Hux wasn’t sure he’d lived a day of his life without several agendas, each mentally ranked according to importance of goal and timescale.

“Well, it’ll be Leia’s decision of course, but I imagine how much freedom you have will depend on your cooperation. She’ll want to question you.” 

“So, there could be torture? If I don’t cooperate?” Hux said, embarrassed by the disappointment in his voice. 

“No Hugs, definitely no torture. Just, more house arrest.”

Hux nodded slightly, unsure what to make of that.

“What do we do now?” FN-2187 asked after a brief pause.  
“I need to check we’re still on the right route to reach Nidan, we should be entering the Outer Rim soon, but Nidan will still be a few days away, all going well. The rest of you might as well rest, I don’t think any of us got that much sleep last night-cycle.”

“Sure thing man.” FN-2187 said leaning forward to briefly rest a hand on Dameron’s upper arm. 

The physical contact thing must be some odd custom they taught upon induction in the resistance. Hux briefly wondered if they would teach him when he reached their base, then realised that he wasn’t going to go to their base, he was going to find a way to escape once they reached Nidan, and secondly that they would never want to touch him. The thought made an odd weight settle in Hux’s gut, which he quickly ascribed to the lack of any kind of food he had eaten over the last few days.

“Do you have any ration bars,” he asked politely, trying to think of something snarky to add so they didn’t think him dependent upon them, but his mind came up blank.

“Sure, there’s portions too, in the kitchen.” FN-2187 informed him with a casual lack of deference that should have irritated him more than it did.

~~~ Several Hours Later ~~~

Hux was sitting in the bunk room tinkering with an old holopad he had found in a kitchen cupboard earlier. He had already taken it apart and put it back together three times. He had peered out of the small transparisteel viewport in the kitchen earlier and noted, with disinterest, that they would be flying near Arkanis’s star system soon. 

Now he was working on upgrading the holopad’s frequency reception capabilities for no good reason other than sheer boredom. It was good to keep busy. He couldn’t ever remember ever having had so little he had to do before. The downtime was causing him to feel oddly dizzy and slightly sick. It was probably just the hangover from last night’s drinking though. It was then that he heard the sound of the ship’s main holoprojector in the cockpit receiving a message.

Hux stood up to get nearer so that he could eavesdrop, but then the sheer undignified childishness of that action hit him like a dreadnought, not to mention the mortification if he was caught. Instead he hurriedly put the last few pieces back together in his holopad’s circuitry and turned it on. As soon as it was online he quickly hacked his way into the Millennium Falcon’s holoprojector and shared the new file with himself.

He pressed play. It was the Jedi scavenger. Rey. He shuddered. 

“Hey guys” she started tentatively, “I hope you’re all still safe and well and that Hux isn’t making your lives too difficult.” Hux scoffed, did she think he was an errant child? “I just wanted to say I really appreciate you guys and…” she paused to wring her hands together, “I appreciate your friendship so much,” Hux really hoped she’d get on with it soon, “I’m going to take action. I know Leia didn’t think I was ready, but, I do. I think I’m ready.” She said defiantly lifting her head, and in that moment Hux saw how young she must be. “I’m going to travel to Exegol. Now. I think I can find my way there, I had a vision… I don’t think I’ll need a holocron. I’ll need to tap into the dark side of the Force, I know what you’re thinking… but I trust myself, I can tap into it and then come back, maybe I’m not meant to be a Jedi anyway? Maybe I’m meant to be something more balanced? I don’t know… but I have to try. I spoke to B-Kylo,” (as Rey paused Hux wondered if the scavenger knew of Kylo’s old identity from his mother or if he was now giving out his birth name to anyone who he vaguely fancied, like candy at a fayre) “he told me something, about Palpatine, I have to fight him. I can win. I know I can. But, if I don’t, I love you three. So much… bye.” Rey finished awkwardly.

Hux wasn’t sure how yet, but he was quite sure that this knowledge could come in useful to him somehow. He went back to tinkering, but his mind was elsewhere, scheming.

~~~ A few hours later ~~~

The millennium falcon shuddered and rocked suddenly. Surely the pirates weren’t back yet? Hux thought with irritation. 

He rushed to the cockpit, where Dameron was pulling levers and pressing buttons in rapid succession, sweat dripping from his brow and a pained expression on his face. 

“There’s something wrong with the engines! They’re malfunctioning.”

Shit. Hux thought. Perhaps he had over-modified in his attempt to slow them down. But that couldn’t be because he knew what he was doing and was an excellent engineer, thank you very much?

“Well?! You were an engineer, take a look!”

It barely registered to Hux that he was taking the orders of resistance scum now, as he rushed into the bowels of the Falcon. He desperately began removing the engine casing and looking at the wires. As he pulled a few apart to get a better look he noticed the small fire that had broken out and scorched his hand in his hasty retreat from the engine compartment. Kriff. He rushed around, desperately looking for an extinguisher, but couldn’t find one. He leaned back into the engine compartment and tried to put the flames out like he would a candle, clapping his hands around the flame. This just earnt him more burns.

“Kriffing nerf-herding force-loving fuck.” He swore desperately looking for something better to smother the growing fire with. 

A small explosion shook the compartment and Hux coughed and fanned the air in front of his eyes. As he looked back at the engines, he saw that they were blackened and charred. There was no way they were still working. This observation was followed by the distinctive feeling of falling through atmosphere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come chat to me on my tumblr! quinnwrites.tumblr.com


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No TW aside from swearing apply to this chapter.

Hux rushed into the cockpit whilst Poe and Chewie were desperately running through procedures to attempt to soften the inevitable crash. 

“Why are we crashing into a planet!?” Hux demanded.

“What, you wanted to just float aimlessly through the Outer Rim with our engines offline until we get beamed in by pirates or the First Order and then taken to your boss?” Poe asked, and he was quite proud of how unphased and rational he sounded.

“Well when we hit that fucking planet we’ll die! I’m sure it’ll be a great comfort that we weren’t beamed in by pirates when we’re dead and in our kriffing graves!”

At that moment Finn bounded in and Poe was relieved to see him. Poe hoped that Finn would calm Hux down, or at least, be a sounding board for his anger, so that Poe could focus on finding a soft landing and slowing down their descent.

Alas, Poe thought sardonically, when he saw Finn’s face, Finn too was panicking. Hard. 

“Oh my stars. We’re crashing. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE. Poe you have to do something-”

“Yep that’s what we’re tr-” Poe began irritably but was quickly cut off.

“STARS. WAS THAT FIRE? WE’RE ON FIRE! WE’RE GOING TO BURN UP AND DIE!” Finn was now adopting the brace position on the floor.

Sure enough a faint orange glow was surrounding the Flacon and the interior had heated up considerably, causing more sweat to drip through Poe’s eyebrows into his eyes. He slicked it away with the back of his hand again.

“We are entering the atmosphere far too fast. You need to pull up right kriffing NOW and get out of the atmospheric pull of Arkanis. Right now. I SAID YOU NEED TO-”

Chewie roared loudly.

“Chewie is right, you two both need to SHUT UP so we can concentrate.”

Thankfully silence followed Poe’s demand. Well, mostly silence; Hux definitely muttered something rude under his breath but Poe wasn’t concentrating on it. 

Hux was right though, they were certainly coming in hot. They were falling fast toward the planet’s opaque cloud layer. A few seconds later they were among the clouds, the steel-grey that stretched out in every direction would have been even more disconcerting if it weren’t for Poe’s trust in the Falcon’s equipment to provide him with accurate information about their location. However, the cloud cover did obscure Poe’s view of where would make the least risky landing place. 

Suddenly a bright beam of sunlight punctuated the stormy grey and they plummeted into a break in the cloud cover that revealed blue skies ahead, like a gift from an ancient God, and through it Poe could just about make out a large, distant body of water. He mentally whooped. They might be able to make it. No, he hadn’t been certain that they would, but he’d figured a quick death was better than being picked up by the First Order and tortured. 

Poe engaged every hydraulic air brake along the falcon’s body that wasn’t already engaged, and as the drag increased a little more they began to plummet down to the greenery directly beneath them a little slower. Now, Poe just had to aim for the water beyond the dark green trees and hope that the angle of their descent would allow them to crash-land in the large lake. 

“… I think we might make it. We might be able to land in that lake.” Poe said relieved and nervously hopeful.

Finn seemed to have got a grip on himself and nodded, hope in his eyes. Poe looked to his co-pilot, Chewie, who looked worried, but in control of the situation. Well, as well as anyone can feel in control when literally about to crash, Poe reasoned. He turned to Hux next and was surprised by what he saw. If Poe wasn’t certain that he was misreading the ginger’s facial cues, he would have sworn Hux looked terrified. He looked far more scared than he had when they were burning up and death looked to be the likely outcome. 

No, Poe couldn’t have been wrong, Hux was staring out of the viewport at the lake in abject horror. Poe had a split second to wonder if perhaps Hux couldn’t swim before the lake was rushing up below them. He engaged an ancient inflatable device located under the ship’s hull and it blew up in seconds. He just hoped it would be enough to combat the speed of their approach and keep them from sinking. 

With an almighty splash and some odd crunching sounds of unknown origin, the falcon plunged sideways into the lake. Half of the view port was submerged and through it Poe saw brown fish darting into the dark blue depths, away from the interloping spaceship. The un-submerged half of the front viewport revealed a sandy beach with a lone pier stretching into the lake. Above the shoreline a small patch of lush green vegetation led the way to an absolutely huge, imposing grey-stone … hotel? Though it seemed odd to have such a large hotel in the middle of nowhere in a backwater planet like Arkanis. Arkanis had barely recovered in most places (or so Poe had thought) since the New Republic’s siege thirty or so years ago. 

The hotel was surrounded by tall evergreen trees on every side but the lake-side. It was a beautiful location really, aside from the rain that thrashed down from the gloomy skies, causing the trees to sway a little and the sand to be coloured a dark beige.

“We made it!” Poe cheered. 

Chewie growled jubilantly too.

“Oh great, a hotel. Grotty weather though.” Finn said cheerfully, “maybe we can grab some food, have a nice comfy bed for the night… then repair the Falcon tomorrow?”

Poe looked towards one of the grand lake-facing exits to the hotel and there appeared to be a few smartly dressed humans running toward them, their clothes becoming plastered wetly to their bodies. There were more humans waiting inside, faces pressed to the glass.

“Well, looks like we’ve already made an impression on the staff. Perhaps they’ll take pity on us and help us repair the Falcon.” Poe stated, “we should probably make a start on the Falcon now though, Finn, we need to get to Nidan in time.” He added with a frown.

“Y-yes. It is imperative that we get to N-Nidan quickly.” Hux stuttered, his face pinched and cheeks beetroot red. When everyone turned to stare at him, he lamely added “Or your General will be disappointed in you…” 

“You know what Hugs, I don’t quite buy that. You got an ulterior motive for wanting to get to Nidan? Or is it just you want to get away from here? You’ve been looking like we crash landed in a rancor pit ever since we, well, ever since we crash landed in a pretty lake with a fancy hotel nearby.”

“Its not a hotel.” Hux said, squeaked - in Poe’s opinion.

Chewie growled in disbelief.

“Yeah. How do you know?” Poe asked.

“I grew up here.” Hux said, it was clear he was attempting to look stoic but his eyebrows had drawn together and his hands had balled in painful-looking fists.

“When you say here …?” Finn asked.

“In that kriffing house.”

“Hang on a second. You’re telling me we just happened to crash land in his backyard?” Finn said, jabbing a thumb accusingly at Hux, “Of all the places in the galaxy?! No way.” He turned his angry gaze on Hux, “You made this happen. You did something to the engines. You must have done; this is way too much of a coincidence.”

“I don’t know pal…” Poe said in consideration, “He doesn’t look much like he wants to be here… But…” Poe trailed off, lost in thought, “WAIT! When we were drunk, I saw you go down to the engines, I thought you were looking for the fresher, at the time but… you actually did it, didn’t you? You messed up the engines so you could go home?! Well, now what? You got us here, you gonna lock us up and sell us to the First Order for clemency? If you think they won’t just shoot you on sight before they take us away to be tortured you're even more brain-washed than your stormtroopers – uhh, no offense Finn.”

“None taken.” Finn reassured quickly, before he was partially cut off by Hux.

“I was the one who said we would be better off floating through space! I said this was a stupid idea! You think I want to be here! Do you think Arkanis is some kind of haven of warm fluffy memories for me?! Fucking Maratelle Hux lives here! Do you think I thought, ‘I know, I’ll just try and get Kylo Ren killed some other time, it can kriffing well wait’ it’s not like that’s important to me, its not like I lost my life’s work for that. No, I clearly thought I’d just kriffing-well play house with three resistance lackeys and an overbearingly evil bitch?!’” Hux screamed, eyes wide, face apoplectic.

“You know what Poe?” Finn asked, cautious yet slightly mocking, “I think he might not want to be here.”

“I wouldn’t believe him so easily Finn. He probably made it to the General gig by getting good at lying.”

“You want the truth? The truth is I did sabotage the engines. I wanted to delay our reaching Nidan for a few days, so that when we got there Enric kriffing Pryde would be there and I could personally execute him for being a sycophantic Ren-following idiot.”

Poe glared at Hux in open disbelief. The snake would just say anything wouldn’t he?

“That does sound like the truth, Poe.” Finn said calmly.

Chewie growled his agreement.

“Fine.” Poe relented with frustration. “I guess we’re all just believing the word of the genocidal maniac then? I can’t believe I started to think there might be a human being there beneath all the – evil.” He gestured wildly.

Hux walked purposefully toward Poe, and Poe readied himself for a fight. But Hux leaned slightly past Poe and hit the button on the dash for the landing ramp with far more force than was strictly necessary.

“You don’t want to believe me? Fine. I just hope you’re ready to meet a genocidal maniac’s mother.” Hux said quietly, his face spasming through several quick-fire emotions until resting in a mask of false apathy.

With that he marched away from Poe, who felt frustrated, betrayed somehow, and overwhelmingly certain he had missed something important in this exchange. Hux, however, walked down the ramp (buoyed up by the inflatable from the Falcon) and then neatly dived into the water and swam jerkily to the shore. Poe took a moment to dully observer that Hux could, in fact, swim (and quite well, yet in a way that somehow managed to express anger) and then dived in after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my inspo for Hux Manor. https://www.luxuryestate.com/p35731861-country-house-for-sale-zephyr-cove


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Familial abuse, swearing

Poe resurfaced and began to swim to the shore. Ahead of him Hux swam with increasing awkwardness, as though he was in pain. Beyond Hux, beyond the beach, on the neat green lawn with its fastidiously shaped hedges, an array of humans in neat grey-and-white uniforms mingled, some whispering amongst themselves, other’s looking scared or worried. Just as Poe reached the shore himself and began to wade out of the water, running a hand through his wet hair to shuck some of the droplets away (though this was pointless given the continued rain) a woman emerged from the house. She was dressed in a dark blue gown, extravagant and impractical, and she tottered towards Hux with great speed, wobbling on her pointed heels. Eventually she bent down mid-jog and threw the shoes off one by one into a bush that had been pruned into the shape of a momong. A few twigs from one of the momong’s large ears broke off and the whole ear swung for a moment before falling off and hitting the grass below. The woman paid this no heed and ran across the beach.

“Mother.” Hux greeted, back ram-rod straight, hands clasped behind him, tone unplaceable. 

Poe expected the woman to throw Hux into her arms and hug him, but instead she raised her arm and slapped him hard across the face. Hux spat blood onto the sand, where it dissipated among the rain-wetted granules, dying them dark red. Her rings had left sharp scratch marks across his lightly stubbled cheek. He turned his face back to look her in the eye, but made no retaliatory movement. 

“Nice to see you too—Unggh” Hux began sarcastically before hunching over in pain from where the woman, Hux’s mother, Poe mentally corrected, had grabbed Hux’s leg and pressed her thumbs into his bandaged wound, hard.

Before Poe knew what he was doing he was restraining Hux’s mother by her arms and hauling her away from him. 

“Who are you? Unhand me at once!” her voice was shrill and demanding.

Poe felt the thin woman struggle within his grasp. Her thin frame and bird-like bones were clearly stronger than they felt judging by Hux’s leg wound, which now dripped more blood down his wet trouser leg and into the already-dark sand. Poe watched Hux’s face for a moment, watched the minute tics that showed him to be in pain vie for control with his apathetic mask of disinterest. His hair was completely dishevelled from days spent unbrushed aboard the falcon, and it stuck wetly to his bloody face from the rain and the lake.

Hux’s mother made one more valiant effort to escape Poe’s hold, elbowing him hard in the stomach. Poe exhaled hard but didn’t let the crazy lady go. 

She half turned her face toward Poe and addressed him, “I bet he didn’t tell you what he did.”

Poe fully intended not to rise to her challenge and firmly ignored her, but Finn was now wading out of the lake and taking in the scene with a bewildered look on his face.

“Who did what?”

“Armitage. What he did to his father.”

Finn looked blankly at Hux’s mother. “Who?”

“What Armitage Hux did.” She spat, “you still don’t trust anyone then, not even with your name, Armitage? Well why would you, its not like you’ve ever had friends.”

Poe began to pull Hux’s mother away from Hux, toward the house’s staff. He hoped one of them would know how to deal with her unique flavour of crazy and would perhaps put her to bed or something.

As Poe hauled her up the verge between beach and garden she shouted unnecessarily loudly to Finn.

“Armitage killed his father. Brendol Hux.” In Poe’s shock his hold on Hux’s mother became lax. She yanked one arm free and completed a religious gesture with it.

“You have no proof.” Hux said coldly, statue-still. 

Finn and Chewie were both frozen mid-wade as they left the lake. Chewie let out a slight pained growl, perhaps thinking of Han.

“Of course I don’t, you were always obsessive, anal; I’m sure you covered your tracks. But we all know it was you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you love him, Maratelle?” Hux said acidly. 

Poe recoiled slightly, shocked at this open mockery of a grieving widow.

“You know I didn’t, but he was a great man in his way. You’ve sullied this family’s reputation.” 

In that moment Poe began to appreciate the level of fucked-up that was Hux’s family. He fumbled for the ring around his neck and stroked it gently with his hand that wasn’t occupied by restraining Maratelle. He was glad his memories of his own mother were happy, as much as he missed her.

“Are you sure I haven’t just cut off your source of spending money?”

Poe was jogged from his remembrance of his own mother by Maratelle attempting to yank her arm out of his grasp. He imagined his grip on her arm was bruising at this point and he had no idea whether or not he should feel guilty.

Poe watched Hux stalk towards the staff in the garden through the rain. He looked strained. 

“Well! Now you’ve finished watching the show, get back to your posts.” Hux barked. “Aarod, take my mother to her quarters, ensure she is… secure.”

“You are not welcome here. You do not belong here, you never have.” Maratelle said, anguished.

Poe watched the staff look at each other in turn, as if deciding who’s orders they should follow. 

“I should not have to remind you who pays you each month.” Hux said, voice glacially cold. Glare harsher than Jakku’s deserts. 

“Yes Sir.” Aarod agreed. “If you’ll come this way please Mrs Hux.” 

Poe dazedly passed Maratelle off to Aarod, who hurried her away into the house making pacifying noises in response to her continuous stream of complaints about Hux. The rest of the staff walked back into the house briskly, but many of them glanced over their shoulders every so often at the newcomers. 

Poe looked at Hux. He was unsure if there was hurt in those murky green-grey depths, or if they were the half-dead eyes of a shark, merciless, seeing only prey.

~~~ Hux ~~~

FN-2187, Dameron and the Beast were all staring at him. Dameron looked concerned and judgemental. FN-2187 was disgusted. The beast looked like it might be about to cry, but it was hard to tell with Wookiees.

Hux coughed once, loudly. 

They all continued to stare. 

A drip ran down Hux’s face and he had no idea if it was blood, lake water, or sweat from the anxiety he was desperately trying to hide. He refused to move his hands from behind his back to swipe it away or to find out what it was. His leg throbbed especially painfully at that moment.

This was ridiculous, he was used to being stared at, by cadets, ensigns and troopers on the Finalizer; or by the whole of the First Order and potentially more of the galaxy besides, when he was giving speeches. He could handle three rebels’ stares and the spectre of Maratelle Hux’s presence. He was also used to being thrown around by vindictive force users and could certainly withstand Maratelle prodding a wound. And as for Hux Manor, well, it was just bricks, cement, and overpriced antiques. He was made of tougher stuff than to let a physical location bother him.

“I suppose we might as well make ourselves at home.” He said trying very hard to sound authoritative and not small or frightened. “Follow me, I’ll speak to Danya and assign you each a place to rest for the night. We don’t have long before nightfall now, so we can leave making a start on the Falcon’s repairs until tomorrow morning.”

He walked through the garden and into Hux Manor through one of the large oak framed glass doors that lead into the parlour room. He mentally counted his breaths and ensured they were even as he entered. It was just bricks, cement, and overpriced antiques. It would do no good for the weaknesses he had shown as a boy to resurface now. The rebels trailed behind him. He heard Finn gasp as they walked through the open plan show-kitchen with its polished mahogany counters, twin chandeliers and cut-geode worktop (the staff cooked in a different kitchen mostly, one tucked away without the stunning views of the lake and the distant mountains). They reached the dramatic central staircase which curved upwards to the second story with a balcony over the hall. Huge windows displayed the mountains to this central atrium of the manor house. The antique round table was decorated with a marble vase full of rare flowers and below the table was an expensive-looking imported rug. Both new since Hux was last here. He sneered at the waste of money and the self-indulgent style. Behind him Poe gave a low whistle.

Hux looked around at the room and supposed it was very impressive, if you were impressed by this sort of thing. It was all polished marble floors, intricate railings, delicate golden-sconce wall lights, and polished Arkanisian wood. Perhaps the only reason he wasn’t impressed by it was that, having spent the first five years of his life here, he was immune to its effects. Or he had a better sense of what was simply wasteful. Then again, said a quiet voice, perhaps it’s because you remember having your head smashed into that lamp, or that time Brendol held you over the balcony and threatened to drop you. Perhaps you remember being held down on that marble floor and beaten. Hux shook his head once, quickly, to clear the thoughts. He felt Poe’s eyes on the back of his head, questioning.

It was at least an incredibly spacious house, he supposed, light-years beyond cramped cadet bunks or the kind of quarters the stormtroopers and junior officers shared. Hux was aware that many people would consider this a very good thing, and whilst he enjoyed privacy and room to stretch, he considered this amount of space to be inefficient. Very privately he could admit to himself that he found there to be something comforting about smaller spaces—even though this was very probably a sign of weakness.

“Danya,” Hux called to the retreating house keeper, “See Dameron, FN-” he broke off with a cough, it would invite too many questions to state FN-2187’s stormtrooper number, “Finn, and err- Chewie, to rooms in the guest suite.” 

“Of course General Hux, sir.” She said smoothly, her eyes betraying her curiosity about his house guests, “This way please sirs.”

Finn stood still for a moment, apparently bemused by the whole situation, Hux observed, before he eventually seemed to realise he had legs and followed Danya along.

“Wait, Danya, was it?” Finn asked. “Me and Chewie are sharing a room.”

Chewie roared in confusion.

Finn elbowed the wookiee in the ribs, “I’d feel safer with you beside me, like normal, Chewie.” He said converting his nudge into an arm around the wookiee’s waist. 

Danya’s eyes went as wide as saucers. Poe had a small coughing fit that sounded suspiciously like it was disguising laughter. Danya looked to Hux. Hux shrugged nonchalantly, some part of him oddly enjoying the diversion of this culture clash from his morbid thoughts about the house. Personally, he didn’t see too much of an issue with inter-species relationships, but this was not a common opinion on Arkanis.

“Of course, this way Sirs.” Danya led Chewie and Finn away.

Dameron looked up and met Hux’s eyes, still smirking. Hux smirked back and Dameron’s expression immediately grew grave.

“I imagine Danya will show you to your room shortly.” Hux said coldly, turning to leave.

Dameron grabbed Hux’s wrist. “Where are you going?” he said sternly.

Hux raised an eyebrow pointedly, “and that’s your business because?”

He hoped Dameron couldn’t feel him shaking. This house was just bricks, cement, and overpriced antiques. It was just a place. He breathed in deeply. He was fine, and above such insecure nonsense as being scared of a kriffing house.

“Because being here doesn’t change the fact that we are still taking you to the resistance after all this.” Dameron hissed.

“I know.” Hux said, trying to disguise his uneven voice with irritation.

Dameron continued to hold Hux’s wrist, seemingly waiting for more of a response. Hux raised both eyebrows. A minute longer passed.

Danya walked towards them, “Mr Dameron, sir. The first door up the stairs on your right is your room.” She said, scared and awkward.

“Dismissed.” Hux told her.

She began to scurry away, then looked back at them over her shoulder, seeming to debate saying something more. Hux fixed her with a cold stare and she almost ran from their presence.

“Why are you still holding my wrist?” Hux asked.

“I have questions.” He said firmly.

“Don’t we all, but I promise you, not being a religious man, I don’t have your answers.” Hux stated, voice still slightly uneven.

Dameron tightened his grip on Hux’s arm, “How can you joke?”

“Its quite simple, I just-”¬

“Hux, I don’t need a masterclass in how to tell jokes. Why did you do it?”

“Do what?” he asked, trying to sound uncaring, like he didn’t know to what Dameron referred.

“Kriff. Kill your father? What else? My mother and father died when I was young, I miss them every day. My mother used to take me up in her old RZ-1 A-wing interceptor, I was so young back then, but I never thought of myself as a kid. She taught me to fly, she was so warm, so kind. And she always made me laugh… She was a terrible cook, we used to make koyo fruit crumble together and it never tasted good, but it was fun.” He broke off with a watery laugh. “Why am I even telling you about this?” 

Hux hated the disgust that came into Poe’s voice when he questioned this. 

“I don’t m-” Hux began.

“It’s pointless, talking to you about family. Looking for humanity in you.” Poe said, more to himself than Hux.

“You wouldn’t have liked him.” Hux said quietly. 

“Why not?” Poe asked, something like hope in his eyes. “Why did you kill him?”

“I- , he-,” Hux paused, tried to gather his courage, “He used to… My real mother, not Maratelle, he…” 

Hux paused again. Poe looked at him with something approaching concern in his eyes, something that made his chest hurt. But perhaps it was just pity? Hux shook himself, what was he thinking, talking about kriffing feelings with rebel scum. 

“He had all the old Imperial officers in his pocket, none of them took me seriously, I was just his kid. So, I killed him. Because he was in my way.” Hux said savagely, yanking his arm from Poe’s grip.

Poe’s face hardened. He turned and walked up the stairs away from Hux. Hux heard him mutter something that sounded like ‘monster’ under his breath and the pain in his chest intensified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, thank you so much for reading. I'm just gonna shamelessly plug commenting on this fic, please do, even if you don't have much to say, every comment makes me so happy. :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So fucking excited to bring you guys this chapter! HAPPY STAR WARS DAY. That said, here are some trigger warnings:  
> TW: familial abuse, mentions of past abuse, implied historical rape

“Monster,” Poe mumbled under his breath. 

He walked up the grand staircase, unsure what he had been hoping for, finding a living, beating, human heart in General Hux? That was never going to happen. So why did he feel disappointed? 

At the top of the stairs he paused to peer over the balcony. He had noticed Hux staring at this balcony moments ago, his posture even more stiff than usual. Inspecting it, Poe found it to be incredibly ornate and most likely expensive, but otherwise unremarkable. Perhaps it was the site of Hux’s first murder and it brought back happy memories, Poe thought drily. But then… he’d seemed scared ever since they’d entered the house, not happy. 

Poe trudged through the upstairs of the manor house’s atrium. It really was a very impressive grand residence, but built from the spoils of war, no doubt, Poe assumed with disgust. He walked past a pair of elegant white-washed wooden chairs, silk-upholstered, set at a decorative table with another floral display on top. Despite the antiques and the old-world traditional style of the residence, Poe was convinced that the whole place would have state of the art shields and offensive mechanisms to protect from orbital bombardment. He was also certain there would be at least one room full of blasters and other modern weapons somewhere. He hadn’t seen any droids yet, but perhaps the Huxs preferred the status symbol of having human labourers.

Finally, he reached the first door on the right and threw it open, uncaring for the fact that the door itself was probably incredibly valuable. The room beyond was as ostentatious as the rest of the house. Poe was surprised, he had thought Hux would put him in the smallest room he could find, but instead he had left it up to the housekeeper, Danya, and she seemed to be a gracious host at least. A huge four poster bed sat amid the large space, with inlaid chests of drawers on either side, each with a marble lamp and a rare potted plant on their top surfaces. There was also a real fireplace! And above it a holoprojector for entertainment, the one modern touch. A very comfortable looking armchair, with upholstery that looked to be made of some kind of rare animal, sat atop the plush carpet. 

In spite of himself Poe found himself taking his shoes and socks off to appreciate the bouncy softness of the carpet. He then stood at the foot of the huge bed and dived onto it. It was very, very comfortable. He stood up on the bed for good measure, bounced twice, and didn’t even feel the springs with his feet. 

Then Poe spotted a door other than the one he had entered through. He climbed off the bed to investigate. Through it was a toilet, a real shower – not a sonic, two – two(?!) sinks and a large basin like object that was big enough for two people to sit in. Poe wasn’t sure what it was so he climbed in, sat down, and twisted the metal fixture. At the same time he realised that he was in a giant sink the water began flowing from the faucet and soaked his socks and bottom. He stood up, equal parts irritated and amused. Then he found a soft fluffy towel and (assuming it was meant for this purpose) tried to dry his trousers and socks a little. 

Just as he removed his trousers, hung them over a warm metal panel, and attempted to towel off his damp underwear, a knock sounded at the bedroom door.

“Shit.”

He couldn’t imagine Hux would have anything else to say to him, so he assumed it was Finn or Chewie and, shrugging, thought at least this would give his friend a laugh.

He swung the door to the bedroom open, grinning at his own expense. But it wasn’t Finn or Chewie. Or Hux.

“Hi, Mr Dameron, sir.” Danya said a little breathlessly, eyes on the floor, “I just wanted to check you found your room o-” she stopped talking abruptly she looked up at him. Then she went bright red.

“Um,” Poe said, also feeling himself blush slightly.

“You, you found your room, then. I’ll go now sir. Um, leave you to it?” She eyed his damp underwear for a moment, then minutely shook her head as though she were the one who had just done something embarrassing.

“Wait, I just, I fell in the big sink. That’s all.” Poe said, scratching the back of his neck.

“The big sink? Oh, you mean the bathtub?” She laughed awkwardly. “It’s for washing yourself.” 

“Yep. I worked that one out when the water hit me.” Poe laughed. He held out his hand to her, and she shook it, still looking nervous, “you can call me Poe, it’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Danya, I work here.” She said, clearly flustered. 

“I know.” Poe chuckled. “I’ll see you around.”

She began to walk away at that, but then Poe had a thought, it wasn’t his business, but he couldn’t deny being curious…

“Wait, Danya?” he called.

“Yes… Poe, sir.” She responded her eyes smiling wide.

Poe was glad to see that his good looks apparently still had an effect. But right now he was more curious about Hux than anything else.

“Tell me about Hux, Armitage Hux. What was he like, when he lived here?” Poe asked.

Danya’s expression fell a little, but she answered him anyway, “I don’t know, sir. He lived here until he was five, I’ve been told. I didn’t work here then though; I was a child myself.”

Poe thought she looked too young for that to be possible, but perhaps she was trying to preserve Hux’s vanity. An odd thought. 

“What else have you been told?” Poe asked.

“Umm, Aarod doesn’t like us to gossip about our master. Aarod is the butler and head of staff here.” She added by way of explanation. 

Poe let his eyes smoulder at her, just a little, “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you talking to me.”

“Well…” Danya continued, “All I know is that Sir left when he was young, with his father, and Mrs Hux, to avoid the New Republic siege. Hux Manor was damaged, some parts were completely destroyed. After a few years, or so I’ve been told, Brendol Hux sent money to some Arkanisian builders and had this place restored, then, years later, he died. But all of this was before my time. I was taken on by Sir when Hux Manor fell into his possession. As were almost all of the staff here.”

“So no one here really knows Hux?” Poe asked, thoughtful. “And Maratelle is his step-mother?”

“Umm, yes, I suppose she is his step-mother. And as for your other question, I only met Sir for the first time today, in person, I mean. I think it’s the same for everyone else, aside from Aarod.” She said, “I’m not sure what we expected of our master, but he’s not it.” She added sheepishly.

“No, he’s not what I expected either.” Poe said slowly.

“If I can speak freely?” Danya asked, and Poe nodded, “How did you become his… friend?” 

“I wouldn’t say that we’re friends.” Poe said, “So Aarod knew Hux as a child?”

Danya frowned, “I don’t think I should say anymore.”

Poe sighed, “Ok Danya.”

She stood awkwardly, clearly waiting for something.

“Oh! You’re dismissed, sorry.”

She inclined her head to him and scurried away. Poe looked down and realised he was still lacking trousers. Oh well.

He looked to the large glass-panelled double doors that lead onto his private stone balcony. Beyond the balcony the sun had almost set behind the mountains. A slight orange mark and a purple glow were all that remained of Arkanis’ weak sun, the rest of the sky was dark. With little else to do Poe stretched and removed his jacket and T-shirt. He settled into the huge bed, flinging a few of the unnecessary cushions away onto the floor. It was incredibly comfortable. He lay centrally – very comfy. Then he tried the right side – also very comfy. Next he rolled from the right side to the left and counted the rotations it took – fun and comfy.

Time passed and eventually Poe realised that he wasn’t sleepy. Or rather, he was, but he couldn’t sleep. There were things that he would have to think about first. Namely, Hux’s fucked up family. Why was Hux seemingly scared in this house? Why was he paying for the upkeep and staff of a house whose only resident was his stepmother, a woman who hated him? It didn’t add up. After a moment of thought about his last interaction with Hux, Poe realised that Hux had been going to say more about what his father did to his real mother, but for whatever reason he had chosen not to tell Poe. Perhaps Hux had killed his father to further his own career, but Poe was certain that was not the only reason, there was certainly something more to it. But why did it even matter? Hux was a monster regardless of why he committed patricide. 

An image from his memory of early today surfaced: gorgeous flame-coloured hair, wet, but free of its usual pomade-restraints and rain-plastered to a pained face, hurt sea-green eyes, shimmering, perhaps with unshed tears? Not the eyes of a shark then. The eyes of someone in pain.

“Force damn it.” Poe swore.

With that he hurled himself up from the bed and grabbed his (now thankfully much less damp) trousers and his discarded T-shirt and dressed himself. It was time to find Aarod.

He traipsed down the stairs, incongruously barefoot in this palace of a house. He walked past seemingly endless lounge-rooms, a second kitchen (more functional, less decorative), a games room, several personal offices, at least three dining rooms, a huge ballroom, a library (full of real paper books!), a gym, and more freshers, some with bathtubs others with traditional showers – no sonics. All of the other bedrooms seemed to be upstairs, and Poe began to retrace his steps to find Aarod’s room when a thought occurred to him: if he were a Hux, where would his staff sleep? The answer of course, was somewhere less luxurious than he himself, to remind them of their relative status. 

With that in mind Poe looked for any less-grand doorways and sure enough found one that led onto a staircase down into a basement. The first door in the basement led into a large vault full of various alcoholic beverages, some even in barrels! The next led, predictably, to a veritable armoury of not only blasters, but hand grenades, phasers, various blades, a large vibro-axe and even antique weapons like spears and serraknives. 

Poe left the armoury and came face to face with Aarod himself. Aarod was old and had a thick grey beard, and right now he looked unimpressed by Poe.

“Mr Dameron, sir?” Aarod said, then without waiting for confirmation, “If I may be so bold, what are you doing in the armoury in the middle of the night?”

“I was just looking for you actually. I wanted to talk to you about Hux.” Poe replied evenly.

“Which one?”

“Both I guess, though I meant Armitage.”

“Why?” Aarod eyed Poe suspiciously.

“I just want to understand him better, I guess.”

Aarod’s eyes narrowed further, “to what end?”

Poe had the distinct sense that dishonesty wouldn’t cut it with this old butler, who, for whatever reason, seemed oddly protective of Hux. 

“I guess I had a lot of preconceptions about Hux. You know, screaming genocidal meglomaniac, lots of anger, nastiness…” Poe trailed off at the unimpressed look Aarod was giving him. He took a deep breath, “What I’m saying is, I expected to hate him, and I … don’t. I don’t hate him. He didn’t make it to General because of his dad, did he? It’s not like I thought. We ran into some pirates on our way here and he was… useful; an effective commander. He’s clever, knowledgeable, resourceful. He seems to expect the worst from everyone, he expects us to hurt him, and when he is hurt, he doesn’t get mad, doesn’t use it against his attackers, he just sort of… accepts it. Like it’s just a normal part of his life. And right now, he seems more scared and hurt than ever; I don’t know why I care, but I do, I want to know why he’s hurting.”

“And you haven’t considered asking him yourself?” Aarod asked, but his expression was less stern.

“He’s closed-off, defensive.”

“Yes, he always was. Even as a very young child.” Aarod sighed, then folded and unfolded his arms.

Eventually Aarod seemed to come to the end of his internal argument and said “You better come with me.”

Poe followed Aarod into a spacious but plain bedroom with armchairs arranged around a low table at the end of a small double bed.

“Take a seat. How do you take your tea?”

“As caf.” Poe responded. 

Aarod exhaled with a sound somewhere between a sigh and a snort of amusement. He bustled about at some kind of drink-making machine on top of a side table and came back to place a steaming mug of caf on the low table in front of Poe.

“You’re contrary, like Armitage; it’s no wonder you two get on.”

Poe thought that was a strong way of putting it, but he didn’t dare argue in case it cost him the information he was here for.

“Where to begin,” Aarod began, “I suppose with my own story. I took a job as a caretaker of the grounds of Hux Manor back when I was as old as Armitage is now. I never intended to stick it more than a few years, it was just to be a steppingstone in the long, illustrious career I saw ahead of me. Brendol Hux was an awful person to work for, but the pay was good. That said, I nearly left in protest over the awful business with Cyla, a kitchen maid.” He paused to sip his tea, “But when she fell pregnant with Brendol’s baby I knew I had to stay to make sure she would be ok. Then she had Armitage, and I stayed longer, to protect them both from Brendol’s wrath. He was an awful man, you need to understand that.”

“I think I’m beginning to.” Poe said quietly.

“You know the tip of the iceberg, lad.” Aarod informed Poe, “He hurt them both, frequently. I couldn’t intervene, I was just the staff. He’d have fired me, and then what use would I be to Cyla and Armitage? So, I did my best to support them, emotionally. I saw my own father in Brendol; he was a tyrant too. Brendol said such awful things to them both. Eventually Cyla left, I don’t think she could take it anymore, I saved money, helped her get a ticket away from here.”

“She didn’t take Hux – Armitage?” Poe corrected.

“She loved him, but it was difficult for her, what with the indignity of what Brendol had done to her. I don’t think she wanted any reminders of Brendol with her. It can’t have been an easy decision, but it was an impossible situation for Cyla.”

“And what about you, why did you stay?” 

“Someone had to comfort Armitage. Though he didn’t talk about his feelings, even back then. So, I told him about my own experience with my father; I think he took solace in knowing he wasn’t alone.”

“You took pity on him.” Poe said kindly.

“It wasn’t pity, it was camaraderie, we went through similar things. And you should be careful, even as a child Armitage hated the idea of anyone pitying him, his father drilled into him that compassion was weakness. I imagine he still abhors the idea of pity.”

“What happened with the New Republic siege?”

“Are you asking me if Brendol took me with them? Of course he bloody didn’t!” Aarod laughed bitterly. “He escaped with Maratelle and Armitage, though Gods knows why he took the poor boy with him. I helped the other staff get away by stealing a neighbour’s spare spaceship. I’m not a trained pilot, but I’m more intelligent than I look. We got out of the way and came back to Arkanis when the New Republic left. Brendol said I had impressed him, by doing that. He promoted me to head of staff and overseer of the re-building. I ran the staff of an empty house for a few years until this place was rebuilt. I kept hoping the family would come back here and I could look out for Armitage again. Instead, Maratelle came back here alone. She’s a nasty piece of work, but she’s bearable. For years I hoped Armitage would return, but he was beginning his glorious career. Then I gave up hope.”

“Why did you give up hope?”

“I just knew he wasn’t going to come back. He was making waves in the First Order, climbing ranks. Then the news came through that Brendol was dead. Armitage, of course; I just knew it. Shortly after, Armitage got in touch with me, told me to fire every member of staff other than myself and to find suitable replacements. His eyes were colder than Hoth. Then I heard reports about them all dying or disappearing mysteriously. I kept waiting for someone to turn up to assassinate me, because I knew of his past, or because I knew about the murders. He had all he needed from me, all the recommendations for new staff, he wouldn’t need me anymore. But nothing happened. The sniper never came. Still, I imagine he is as bad as his father is now. In so many ways, I failed him.” Aarod finished heavily.

“I’m sorry.” Poe leaned forward and put a hand on Aarod’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb in small circles comfortingly. Aarod jerked slightly at first, but soon relaxed into the touch.

Poe wondered if all Arkanisians were this unused to being touched kindly, or if this was just something Aarod and Hux had in common due to their difficult pasts.

“It’s OK. I’m fine, it’s just been… a life. You know?” Aarod’s shoulder shuddered a little and he cried quietly.

Poe scooped the man up into a standing hug. Aarod seemed shocked by this but once again quickly accepted the comfort.

“Please don’t tell Armitage about this.” Aarod said, fearful.

“You don’t need to fear Armitage Hux. He’ll have to go through me before he hurts you. I’ve got your back.” Poe pulled back, looking this surprisingly kind Arkanisian in the eye. “I promise you, I won’t let him hurt you.”

“…Well, this is a touching scene.” Hux said dangerously from the doorway.

Aarod quickly pulled away from Poe, gave a high-pitched sniffle, and wiped his eyes.

“How long have you been here?” Aarod mumbled.

“Long enough.”

“Why are you here, Hux?” Poe demanded, stepping slightly in front of Aarod.

“I could ask you the same thing, Dameron. Especially since this is my kriffing house. But I know why you’re here, you’re unearthing all my family secrets without my knowledge or permission.”

Poe felt a little abashed, and Aarod behind him was radiating waves of mortification. Then, Hux continued. 

“Aarod, I was just coming to ask if you wanted to drink some Tarine tea with me? Perhaps catch up in some manner. But I see you’ve already found someone to share your drink with. Nevermind, perhaps some other time.” Hux voice was casual, but his expression was deadly.

Poe felt awful. Aarod no doubt also felt awful. Hux, if he was capable of such a thing, and it seemed he was, probably felt awful too. Poe pulled Hux out of the room by his arm, which earnt him an expression of incensed shock from Hux. 

“Good night, Aarod.” He said with a pained voice that he desperately hoped expressed how very sorry he was.

Poe went to pull Hux through the corridor, to somewhere they could speak more privately. But before he knew what was going on, he had been slammed into a wall with a monomolecular blade at his throat, beginning to cut into his skin.

“You would have been useful to my plans, but I’m sure I’ll find some other way to kill Kylo Ren.” Hux hissed.

Hux’s eyes were enraged, insane. The blade bit further into Poe’s skin, and he could feel blood begin to drip down onto his T-shirt.

“Wait, Hux. I’m sorry.” He looked Hux in the eye, trying to convey how genuinely sorry he was. He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, or spy on you, I just wanted to understand you.”

Hux gaped at him. The knife moved away slight and Hux’s hand shook.

“Hux? Look, I’m sorry, it was stupid of me to go prying, you’re right, I didn’t have your consent. What I did was wrong.”

“I – you? You’re sorry?”

“Yes.”

Hux stepped back and the blade fell to the floor, clattering loudly on the tiles between them. 

Hux bent down, scooped it up and reattached it to the inside of his ruined uniform sleeve. Poe felt his breathing and pulse return to normal during Hux’s practiced yet shaky movement. He briefly wondered how many people Hux had killed with that blade. Then he looked back at Hux. Hux was still wearing his bloody, damaged uniform, his hair was still gorgeously askew and his green eyes looked close to tears. He was the definition of a hot mess.

“You wanted to understand me?” He said with something approaching wonderment. But then he barked, “Why?”

Poe had a sense that flippancy would ruin whatever this strange moment was, so he answered honestly, “I don’t know, I just find myself thinking about you a lot. I … I guess I want to get to know you. The real you, not all the killing and propaganda.”

“Killing is often necessary.” Hux said, voice certain, eyes searching Poe’s for something else, conflicted.

“Occasionally.” Poe compromised, voice soft.

“You want to know me?” Hux repeated again, bewildered.

“Yes. You interest me.” Poe admitted softly.

“I don’t believe you.” He said, voice quiet yet harsh, he began to pull away from Poe who hadn’t previously realised how close they were standing. “This is some horrible trick.”

“Wait.” Poe commanded.

Bafflingly, Hux did indeed wait. There was so much hope in his eyes. He stood close enough to Poe for Poe to hold him, and he looked Poe in the eyes with burning, desperate hope. So, Poe did the natural thing, without any real thought for the consequences. He took Hux into his arms and gently kissed him.

Hux froze within his arms, so Poe went to pull away.

“Sorry, I think I-” Poe began, embarrassed.

“Wait.” Hux interrupted softly, he pulled Poe back into his arms and their lips met again. 

Hux’s mouth was unexpectedly soft and warm; the kiss was gentle but insistent and just slightly desperate. Poe stroked his fingers through Hux’s brilliant orange hair, it was even silkier than he had expected, and Hux hummed gently, the slight noise was thrilling to Poe. Poe deepened the kiss and was pleased when Hux licked at his tongue a little in return. He seemed inexperienced, but eager to please Poe by mimicking his actions. Poe hadn’t expected any of this.

Before Poe knew what was happening Hux was pulling away from him. A small whine escaped his throat. Hux laughed. Then he looked at Poe with an odd look on his face. Poe couldn’t place it for a moment before he realised that it was a real smile, real affection, and that that had been a real laugh. He had never seen Hux look genuinely happy before. That thought made him feel a spike of sadness in his core.

“What?” Hux said simply, almost relaxed. “Why are you still looking at me?”

“I… I’ve never seen you look happy before. It’s nice. I’m so sorry you went through all the things you went through.”

Hux’s face immediately shuttered, his voice was bewildered and hurt, he hadn’t managed to shutter away the emotion in it as effectively as he had with his expression, “So that’s what this is all about? You feel sorry for me. Of course, I should have known. Kriffing resistance compassion.” 

Hux ran his hand through his gorgeous hair, mussing it further and Poe thought he saw a tear sparkle on his high cheek bone. 

Hux took a large step back and spoke quickly. “Great. Wonderful. Kriffing hell.”

“No, Hux. Wait. I didn’t mean…” Hux began to walk briskly away, his whole frame was shaking slightly. “Wait!” Poe called after him.

“Not again.” Hux called back to him, before disappearing up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh!!! I love you guys if you've read this far! Please come and scream at me on my tumblr quinnwrites.tumblr.com


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw: Panic attack, mention of past abuse   
> Its an angsty chapter, but there is some character growth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much like Hux, I suffer from Complex-PTSD. Unlike Hux, when my mental health is bad I am a slacker. Apologies, and please enjoy this hugely delayed fic updated.

Hux’s cheeks were on fire as he rushed away from Poe. He felt utterly mortified. Of course Dameron didn’t actually want to kiss him. It was a pity kiss. How disgusting. But then, who would want to kiss Hux? Thin as a slip of paper and just as useless Hux? Pale, thin, weak Hux, who had been stupid enough to believe that someone was attracted to him only once before and look how that had ended. With Kylo becoming supreme leader and suddenly deciding Hux was a threat to his rule; their secret soft touches turning into Kylo throwing Hux around with the Force whenever a bad mood struck. When Hux had told Kylo that whatever weird attempt at romance they had had was over Kylo had gone into Hux’s mind, overthrowing Hux’s mental shields in his anger, and had found some of his worst memories of Brendol, teased them out, and made Hux look at them. He’d heard Kylo’s voice in his head telling him Brendol had been right about him all along, that he was worthless. Hux had left and avoided being alone with Kylo for a long time after. But that wasn’t the final straw, that wasn’t what tipped him into spying for the resistance. Hux wouldn’t be himself if he couldn’t handle harsh words and violence. Still. He’d sworn to himself he’d never be so stupid again. Love was a lie and attraction was not something people ever felt to a man like Hux. 

Hux hesitated when he reached the door to his childhood bedroom. He hadn’t thought to ask Danya to assign him a suite too, but there was no way he was sleeping in this room. He almost kicked the door in his roiling emotional state but quickly stopped himself, unlike Ren he could control his emotions without damaging property, and besides, he really didn’t want to accidentally kick open the door to this room. Not when it might still look the same inside and bring back even more unwanted memories. Really, this whole house was full of bad memories, but to Hux nowhere else was as bad as his childhood bedroom, where’d he’d cried all night long and where he’d felt so weak and alone. He should have managed his emotions better and been stronger. He should never have given in and cried. His childhood bedroom was a site of failure. Although, Hux supposed, his whole life was a failure now. Everything he had believed in and built, he had betrayed. He didn’t even know who he was anymore.

Hux went to open the door to the unoccupied guest suite his feet had taken him to. To open the door he was forced to unclench his hands from the fists they had formed, and he was surprised to see that a few of his nails had partially broken the tight stitching of his leather gloves. The bones in his hand, he now noticed, ached and he shook his hands out in frustration. He was used to his bones aching from stiffness though, so it was only a mild inconvenience as he entered the guest suite. The bed was unmade, the plush mattress exposed, and Hux cursed himself again for not asking Danya to assign him a suite. There was no way he could ring a servant bell and ask for someone to make up the bed when he was in this state, red faced and… He swatted at his face – crying. Great. Just to make things even worse. Besides, his father would think him stupid and weak for this, but he always felt bad for bothering the servants late at night. They were civilians at the end of the day and making a bed or fetching some food was hardly a matter that couldn’t wait for the next day. 

Hux took his shoes and uniform off and folded the ruined clothes as neatly as he could. He showered quickly and his tears (if he was still crying – he couldn’t tell) mingled with the water. The short shower was very painful on his leg wound which Maratelle had aggravated. He considered re-bandaging it properly with the contents of a medpac, but there wasn’t one in the guest suite. The only one he knew of, if it was still there, was in his childhood room and there was no kriffing way he was going in there. So, he wrapped a small hand towel around the wound and went through the wardrobe in the suite hoping there would be some clothes within. Thankfully there were a few large sets of men’s trousers and shirts. Apparently Maratelle had been entertaining a male guest here, so much for her concern with propriety after Brendol’s death, Hux thought with contempt. 

Whilst Hux did feel some measure of disgust about wearing this stranger’s clothes, he really couldn’t put his dirty, ruined uniform back on in case it infected the wound; and there was no way he was walking around Hux Manor in just a towel searching for something better, not when anyone could see his pale body and hideous scars if he did so. So, after sniffing the clothes and deciding they had at least been washed since they were last worn, Hux slipped a shirt and some trousers on. Their previous occupant had been tall like Hux, but also much broader and so the clothing looked oversized on him. He had to do the belt of the trousers on the tightest hole to get them to stay up. He looked at himself in the full-length mirror. He looked stupid, but at least the large trouser legs meant there was room for the hand-towel bandage on his leg to stay in place.

Now what? Hux thought. He supposed he should go to sleep for at least a few hours then go and begin work on the Falcon. The sooner they could get away from this stars-awful planet the better. Hux laid down centrally on the pristine, exposed mattress. The bed was much bigger than the one in his quarters on the finalizer, and he felt small and childlike lying in it, doing nothing, unable to sleep. He stared up at the sculpted-plaster ceiling and found it far too familiar for his liking. He rolled onto his side and his leg shot pain through his whole body in protest. He felt useless. Fuck sleeping. He should do something useful. He dragged himself off the bed and down through the house to the attractive kitchen that overlooked the mountains and lake. He made himself a quick cup of tea and headed outside. 

The Falcon was still half-submerged in the lake. Hux could see no easy way of towing it to shore, the Falcon was a Corellian YT-series light freighter, and as such, was heavy. Really kriffing heavy. Sure, Hux could attach some ropes to a speeder and swim out to tie them around the Falcon, but he wasn’t sure that the ropes or the speeder wouldn’t break before the Falcon shifted at all. No, this would require a bit more finesse; a technological approach. 

Hux went back inside and, through a side door, he accessed a large garage area where there were stored speeders, a worktable, hunks of metal, soldering equipment and all sorts of other workshop paraphernalia. There was even a small civilian space-craft for slow, unshielded planet-hopping; clearly it wasn’t the ship for their mission to Nidan, but it might come in useful for parts. Hux surveyed the garage again, it was all in good condition, some components looking as though they had only been set-aside recently. Hux remembered helping Aarod to fix things down here as a child; perhaps Aarod still tinkered often in his spare time. Hux took a sip of his warm tea and remembered the rare good moments of his childhood, building and learning about basic engineering from Aarod. Then he shook himself from the reverie and chastised himself for being soft. He got to work.

Hours later, Hux had created a fully mechanised hoist, complete with a complex series of metal hooks that Hux would remotely control to grab around the Falcon’s extruding hull features. He wheeled the apparatus outside and made quick work of attaching the falcon, manoeuvring its dripping surfaces out over the shore and onto a huge wheeled trolley that would reduce the friction and allow them to drag the ship into the garage by towing it with a speeder. Pleased with himself Hux went inside to warm his forgotten cup of tea, before going back outside. 

Hux stared at the night sky, it had barely rained the whole time he’d been out here. Strange. His steaming cup warmed his un-gloved hands as he sipped his bitter tea. The lack of heavy grey rain clouds allowed Hux to watch the faint path of a shooting star scatter itself across the navy sky just like the metal filings had arced across the garage occasionally twinkling in the overhead light earlier, when he was working on the hoist. The sun was beginning to peak above the horizon; but Arkanis’s sun was weak and its light only diffused into the sky nearest the horizon, dying it shades of orange and yellow. Higher up, Hux could still see the stars. He was beginning to feel almost peaceful when –

“Hux!” 

“Poe.”

“There you are, I’ve been looking all over – hey, wow, you got the Falcon out of the lake, nice hoist thingy?” Poe rushed out. “But yeah, uhh, can we talk?” he asked scratching the back of his neck.

“There’s nothing to say. You can help me work on the Falcon if you want.” Hux offered reluctantly.

“Uhh, yeah sure. Wait, have you slept at all?”

Poe was really going to make Hux regret that offer of working together. “Yes mother, I ensure I get eight hours every night.” Hux said sarcastically.

“… Alright. I’m gonna go make some caf. Then we can get the Falcon inside to work on her engines?”

“That is the plan, yes.” Hux replied tersely as Poe bounded away to the kitchen to make caf.

Poe returned with a hot mug of caf in hand and a less bleary-eyed expression. In short order the pair had gotten the Falcon into the large garage and were climbing inside the still damp spaceship. 

“We should probably do something about the puddles in here, can’t be good to have water inside the Falcon.” Poe said. 

“Nor the sea-life that comes with it.” Hux called back from the engine compartment he had just entered.

“Sea-life?” 

“There’s a dead fish in here.” Hux responded as Poe came to join him.

Poe laughed in shock, and Hux almost smiled back, but as he met Poe’s eyes Poe stopped laughing awkwardly, and that was enough to remind Hux that all Poe felt for him was pity.

“We really need to talk, Hux.”

Hux turned away. “Lets just try and get the Falcon fixed, get on with your mission and then I can rot at some resistance base for the rest of my life untroubled by you.”

“Wow. Ok.”

The two men worked in an awkward silence for an hour or so before Poe opened and shut his mouth several times in quick succession.

“Fine.” Hux said, resigned.

“What?”

“I said fine: go on, spit it out. Say what you want to say to me so we can actually focus on the task at hand.”

“Oh, um ok. I just wanted to say, I don’t pity you, I expressed myself badly last night but I do like you-”

“Am I a joke to you? You think its funny to toy with me?” Hux said, hoping he came across as exasperated and not hurt. “I can assure you, you’re not the first to try and make a game of me.”

“What?! No, I mean it Hux. I like you. You’ve been through some bad shit but that’s not relevant to the fact I like you.”

“So you’d still like me if I’d done everything I have done but didn’t have a tragic backstory to excuse myself? If you didn’t see a soul you could save?” Hux asked belligerently. 

There was a pregnant pause.

“You just want to be the good guy, see the good in me, maybe bring me to your side through your accursed compassion and pity. But you don’t know the first thing about me. I’m a monster. You don’t know half of what I did to get to my position or why I did it. Maybe it helps you to think you kissed a misunderstood, traumatised soul, but I knew exactly what I was doing in the First Order, and I’d do most of it again.” Hux responded.

“I don’t think I know you. I don’t think anyone knows you Hux, least of all you. I just wanted to get to know you.” Poe replied sadly.

At that moment Hux heard the distinctive roar of a wookiee and popped his head out of the detached engine compartment hatch to find that FN-2187 and the beast had entered the garage and were talking together happily. Hux watched Poe climb out of the Falcon and walk towards the pair. He embraced them both briefly and they exchanged pleasantries. It shouldn’t be any different to watching subordinates chat on the Finalizer, but Hux felt a kind of loneliness wash over him watching their easy chatter.

“You guys got the Falcon out of the lake already? Good job!” Hux overheard Finn praise cheerily.

“That was all Hux.” Poe responded good-naturedly, “I’ve not been out here long.”

Hux tuned the rest of their inane chatter out and went back to attempting to dry out the engines. Poe, Finn and Chewie seemed content to dry the rest of the ship and check for damage elsewhere whilst Hux worked and he was torn between appreciating the alone time and hating how separate he felt. Which was irrational, he told himself, because why would he want to fit in among rebel scum anyway? He shook himself and continued.

An hour or so later Poe bumped shoulders with him and handed him a cup of tea.

“What is this?” Hux asked.

“Tea.” Poe smiled.

“Why?”

“Hydration is important.” 

Hux scoffed and was about to make a biting retort, but Poe was already inspecting the engine at Hux’s side and Hux lost himself momentarily in Poe’s attractive, expressive features, which were currently set in an expression of concentration.

“It’s looking drier in here.” Poe said appreciatively, “What’s this bit?” he pointed to large unattached piece of charred metal.

“Well, this is the crankshaft,” Hux pointed to the relevant part, “and these are the pistons” he gestured towards them, “so that should be where the connecting rods go, but whatever that blackened bit of metal used to be it doesn’t look like it was ever rod shaped. When the ship crash landed a lot of the burnt parts dislodged and they’re scattered around in here now. We’re going to have to take the whole engine apart and rebuild it piece by piece. Its just too damaged for anything else.”

It was only after Hux had finished speaking that he realised that he hadn’t found explaining such basic things to Poe as irritating as he would’ve had it been some ensign or cadet in the First Order asking the question.

“Let’s get it out of this compartment then.” Poe responded with a friendly nod.

Together they hefted the engine onto the floor of the garage. Finn and Chewie gathered the pieces that fell from the engine as they carried it and placed them beside the engine on the floor.

“How bad is it?” Finn asked.

“Hux thinks we need to start again, completely rebuild it. How’s the rest of the Falcon?” Poe asked.

“The weaponry all seems fine, but the hull’s taken some damage – shouldn’t be too hard to repair - and the shields will need re-installing.”

“Pretty bad overall then.” Poe summarised.

Chewie growled.

“Yeah, you guys go ahead and start on the hull, s’good of a place as any to begin.” Poe replied to Chewie. “Me and Hux’ll see what we can salvage from the engine.”

“Pass me that hydro-spanner.” Hux commanded.

“Sure thing.”

They worked together surprisingly companionably for a while, Poe asking the occasional question, passing tools and learning about engines impressively quickly. 

“We’ll need to run a current through here to see if these components” Hux pointed, “are still hyperdrive compatible.”

“Sure thing, I think I know what I’m doing with that.” 

Poe took the electrodes and powered on the circuit, before touching them against the metal components. 

“It’s kinda sparking, should it be sparking?”

“No. Definitely not.” Hux informed,

Hux jostled into Poe to attempt to get a reading on the components and to figure out what was going on, but in doing so jostled the components and they fell, still clipped onto the electrodes, still electrically charged, still sparking. Hux watched the completed circuit fall to the ground calmly, before he noticed Poe reflexively trying to catch it. He just had time to think ‘oh, fuck’ before Poe was burnt by the sparks and briefly electrocuted. Poe stumbled back and then sat on the floor, dazed for a moment.

“Are you ok?” Hux asked.

“I – I think so, I feel kinda weird though, my heart is beating very fast? And my hand is burnt.” Poe said slowly.

“Let’s go and get a medpac and treat your hand.” Hux didn’t know why he cared so much, perhaps he felt he should have warned Poe about the dangers more – but that was ridiculous, the man was a fighter pilot.

“Ok”. Poe said, still dazed.

Hux lead Poe into the house then paused, again realising the only medical supplies he knew of where in his old room. ‘Ah kriff’ he mentally swore. Still, there was no time like the present for overcoming his weak fears, right?

“I used to keep medical supplies in my room as a kid, so I can treat your burn in there.” Hux informed Poe. 

If Poe thought it strange that Hux had medical supplies as a child he didn’t express it. Instead, as they climbed the stairs, Poe said in a strange tone that Hux couldn’t place, “I feel a lot better, I think it’s just the shock, hah, literal shock, that got me, I mean? We can probably go back out.”

“Its fine, might as well treat it, if memory serves, I even had bacta in there so…” Hux pushed the door open to his old room and immediately froze.

“Hux?”

“I, I’m fine, its just a room, I I’m fine.” Hux repeated quietly, his breaths growing ragged. “Does the air seem weird in here? I think there’s something wrong with the air.”

He stood ramrod still and stiff, memories assaulting his minds eye, one after the other in a blur of pain.

“I can’t breathe.”

“Its ok Hux, let’s just leave. My hand is really not that bad.”

“No, the medpac is over here-” Hux gasped a few times, “I really don’t think I can breathe. Poe, I think my throat is closing.”

Hux was so humiliated by this weakness he was displaying. He shouldn’t need to ask Poe for help but-

“Hey, its ok,” Poe positioned himself in front of Hux, “breathe with me, in, out. Deep breaths.”

“I’m fine. It’s just… not its fine, I’m fine.” Hux was hyperventilating, gasping between words.

“You’re not ok right now, and that’s fine, you’ll be ok soon. Come on just breathe with me. In. Out. In. Out. Copy me.” Poe reassured.

“It hasn’t changed. This room hasn’t changed…” Hux had never wanted the ground to swallow him up so badly. Tears were pouring down his face and he couldn’t kriffing breathe. He just needed some air, then he’d be fine. 

“I’m going to touch you, is that Ok?” Poe asked.

Hux jerked a little instinctively before nodding hesitantly. Poe approached him slowly and wrapped his arms around Hux. Hux surprised himself by melting into the touch and Poe rubbed soothing circles into Hux’s back.

“You’ll get through this.” Poe soothed in Hux’s ear.

Hux hiccupped and snuffled for a moment. Then he ducked his head away from Poe as his anxiety dissipated and the sheer humiliation of whatever the kriff had just happened truly hit home. He gently pushed Poe away.

“Can we get out of this room?” Hux asked, internally cursing himself for asking permission.

“I can’t think of a better idea.” Poe replied.

The pair walked to a luxurious set of chairs set around a small mahogany table in the corridor, the door to Hux’s old bedroom now firmly shut. Hux sat down heavily, sensing that there was a conversation coming that he couldn’t run from – that would make him look even weaker. 

“You know, I used to have panic attacks too, in the few years after my mom died. It’s not a sign of weakness.” Poe said evenly.

“Perhaps not, if you’re a child.” Hux said, voice full of self-loathing.

Poe sighed, “We don’t have to have this conversation now if you’re not ready, but why did you take me to that room?” Poe asked.

“You were hurt, and there were supplies in there.” Hux replied confusedly. This was not the question he had been expecting.

“But you had to know that opening that door would bring up bad memories?”

“Yes, but you were hurt.” Hux replied, starting to understand what Poe was getting at.

“That was awfully selfless of you, Hugs.” Poe semi-teased.

Everything was quiet for a moment as Hux looked determinedly at an uninteresting patch of wall past Poe’s head.

“Perhaps you aren’t the monster even you think you are.” Poe smiled.

Hux considered this for a moment. He felt something warm and bright blossom in his chest. He almost smiled back. Then he remembered that he had left the First Order and everything he believed in and still had no clear idea of how he would get back to his original goals. He didn’t know who he was in this place, away from the First Order that had defined his life for so long. Almost against his will he found himself speaking.

“I don’t know who I am anymore, not without the First Order.”

Poe looked away thoughtfully for a moment, “Maybe your life until now has been made up of cruelty you didn’t deserve, and choices that have been made for you. Perhaps now you get to begin choosing what you want your life to look like, on your terms…” He trailed off. “Or perhaps I should just stick to piloting and not give life advice.” He smiled, almost self-consciously.

Hux’s mental processes ground to an uncharacteristic halt, then slowly picked up. Choice? What choice was there when the galaxy was in disarray and it was his duty, no, his destiny to improve things. But… Poe was right, a lot of things had been decided for him, the Academy, the First Order… Damn. 

Who did Poe think he was anyway? To come into Hux’s life and make him question things he’d never questioned. To say he didn’t deserve the cruelty he’d always been faced with: the one constant in his life. To hold him whilst he panicked. To have a kind face and nice eyes. To listen. Kriff. Hux was thoroughly shaken. But he gave voice to none of these thoughts.

Instead, he said, with humour “I hope you aren’t expecting me to pay for your counselling services, fly-boy.”

Poe laughed softly, surprised at the use of the nickname but also, perhaps a little sadly(?), “This session is on the house.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented and everyone who is still interested in this fic and hasn't given up :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took much longer than I expected. All sorts of real life stuff going on that you probably don't want to hear about. BUT the good news is that I now have an amazing beta reader so expect better content going forwards!

Poe awoke slowly. His first feeling was of confusion, his surroundings were certainly no Resistance base or X-Wing interior: he was in a luxurious and traditional room. Then it all came rushing back, escaping in the Finalizer, setting off for Nidan, crash-landing on Arkanis, entering Hux’s family home, Maratelle, the arguments, the kiss, Hux’s panic attack. The panic attack was concerning. Poe hoped Hux was feeling better today, then tried not to care, Hux wasn’t resistance, he didn’t really believe in their cause and he would certainly always be on the wrong side of history. But. It always came down to a but with Poe’s feelings regarding Hux. But perhaps Hux wasn’t all bad, but perhaps good and evil weren’t so clear cut in a war, but perhaps Poe just wanted him and screw everything else? Poe preferred to think that not caring about a hurting person would be out of character for him, though a part of him also wondered if perhaps his feelings for Hux showed him that morality wasn’t as important to him as he had thought it was? It was all very confusing.

The previous day had passed in a blur. When Poe and Hux had returned to the Falcon after Hux’s panic attack they had worked on the repairs a little longer. After, they had all gone their separate ways to get some sleep - aside from Finn and Chewie who were sharing a bed – and Poe really had to ask them how that was going. It was too good of an opportunity for teasing to pass up.

Poe reluctantly got out of the warm bed; it was exceedingly rare in his line of work to get to sleep somewhere so comfortable. He shrugged on some of the clothes he had recovered from the Falcon yesterday, having left them to dry out overnight. They were still a little damp and therefore cold and he looked enviously at the bed again. Shaking himself away from the thought of climbing back in, Poe left his room and walked down the spiral staircase. It occurred to him, very briefly, that it might be fun to slide down the bannister of such a large staircase. And if he was honest, he was a little tempted - but they needed to get the Falcon repaired and get to Nidan as soon as possible. As General Organa had said, ‘No time for potentially getting injured before a battle’.

Poe grabbed a mug of caf from the confusingly over-complicated machine he had just about figured out the previous morning, then he headed for the workshop.

“Hey Poe,” Finn called out to him as he entered. 

Chewie roared in greeting from where he stood at the side of the workshop poring over a schematic diagram he had apparently procured at some point Poe was unsure of which usefully depicted the inner workings of a Corellian YT-series light freighter.

“Hello to my favourite lovebirds!” Poe grinned back as he made his way over.

“You know it’s not like that.” Finn accused, finger pointed at Poe’s chest.

“Sorry,” Poe smirked, “ are you not giving your romance a label yet?”

Chewie growled in a way that was probably just banter but sounded a little threatening to Poe.

“Alright, alright, just friends. I get it. No labels. No innuendos. Just the most platonic of friends, sharing a bed.”

Chewie roared in resignation and Finn echoed his sentiment.

“I give up with you.” He said, throwing his hands up in the air, but he was smiling at Poe despite his irritation.

“How’s the Falcon?” Poe asked.

Chewie roared.

“That badly, eh?”

“There’s just a lot still to do,” Finn clarified, “but it’s all doable.”

Poe looked around at the mess of parts strewn across the hard floor, broken hyper drive pieces, burnt-out-who-knew-what and still a few puddles here and there, he nodded stoically, “We’ll get there.” Poe paused a moment, then said “Where’s Hux?”

“He’s inside working on the engine still.” Finn informed whilst he sorted through some of the dismantled hyper drive parts. 

Poe toed a burnt hunk of metal with his boot. 

“ Apparently, water and electricity don’t mix, who knew?” Finn continued, “And whilst we’re on the topic of Hux presuming we’re stupid, why did you let him explain all that basic stuff yesterday?”

Poe shrugged, “Some of it was new to me,” at a look from Finn he continued “Alright, I already knew most of it, but I think it put him at ease to explain things he knows so much about, that sort of thing can be calming. Though it really was stupid of me to try to catch the circuit when it fell – but that was just a reflexive thing.”

“Since when do we care about putting genocidal maniacs at ease?”

“I don’t know that he’s such a bad person beneath it all. I mean everyone does bad things in war right? What if I … kind of like him.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” Finn asked, eyebrows raised and voice coated in sarcasm.

“I just think…” Poe paused in thought, “I just think he’s helped the Resistance, he saved our lives, he’s not being rude to us now.” He listed, “Maybe we should give him more of a chance?”

“He literally stole me from whatever parents I had and brainwashed me to fight for the First Order.” Finn replied, arms folded, unimpressed.

“Yeah, he did do that, and that is pretty indefensible so I guess I’m not going to try and argue that he’s a good guy, but maybe he can… I dunno, change?” Poe paused, took a deep breath and continued “I guess I do feel like he can change… if we give him the chance.” Poe trailed off.

Finn made a long-suffering noise of frustration.

Poe hesitated for a moment, “I know it must be pretty shit to have a big reminder of your past nearby,” Poe touched Finn’s upper arm and made eye contact, “Thank you for not being harsher on him.” 

Finn nodded in reluctant acceptance of Poe’s thanks, “It’s not you who should be thanking me, but sure.”

“I’m going to go check on him.” 

Poe hesitantly fist bumped Finn. Both men smiled somewhat sadly at each other. At least now Poe knew his friendship with Finn could withstand almost anything.

Poe climbed up the outside of the Falcon using the holes where hatches had been removed along the perimeter to facilitate passing equipment in and out of the worn ship as foot holds and carefully keeping his half-drained mug of caf aloft. He dropped down into the engine room next to Hux, startling him. 

“Sorry Hugs, didn’t mean to scare you.” Poe went to clap Hux on the upper arm and Hux startled further.

“I hope you didn’t mean to spill caf on me either.” Hux grumbled, stepping forward again and fussing at the wet patch on his presumably borrowed non-first-order shirt. He was clearly pretending not to have just jerked away.

“- you OK there? How are you doing?” Poe continued.

Hux looked baffled, “I’m fine?” he shook himself before continuing with more authority, “some of the engine components will need more time to dry out and I’ll need a couple of days to rebuild the damaged parts. This workshop is well-stocked so it should be fine. We could set off for Nidan in two days.”

“That’s great news Hugs.” Poe grinned clapping a hand on Hux’s shoulder, which Hux very slightly recoiled from.

“But-”

“Oh no.” Poe quipped. “Nothing good ever comes after a but.” 

“It might do this time.” Hux smirked arrogantly, “We’re three days from Nidan here, and it’ll take two more days to fix the Falcon. But,” Hux turned to look Poe in the eye, as he built up his argument “if we were to delay our arrival on Nidan by two more days-”

“Not loving where this is going Hugs,” Poe replied, “General Organa said asap.”

“-Pryde will be there too in 7 days.” Hux continued loudly over Poe, “We could take him out of the equation.” When Poe was quiet Hux continued, “Without Pryde, Kylo Ren would be low on effectual leadership, and it would take out his main link to the forces of the Final Order. It could turn the tide in this war.”

Poe leaned against the cold plastisteel wall and contemplated this. He could see the benefits to the suggestion, “… We need to speak to Finn and Chewie about this. It’s not just my decision to make, and not following my General’s orders hasn’t done me so much good in the past.” Poe began to climb out of the falcon’s engine room, “Come on,” he called after himself.

~ Hux POV ~

Poe and Hux climbed out of the Falcon and walked across the workshop to where Finn and Chewie were replacing damaged hull parts. Finn opened his mouth to speak with a grin before promptly making eye contact with Hux and closing his mouth again, words unuttered. 

“Hux has a suggestion.” Poe informed.

“If it involves blowing up planets, tell him we politely decline.” Finn snarked, closely inspecting a fallen piece of hull, which Hux knew to be unrelated to the hyperdrive Finn had announced he and chewie were working on earlier.

Hux sneered nastily. Then he repeated his suggestion.

Finn snorted with disbelief, “That was a pretty speech, practised. The real question is what do you get out of this.”

“Simple. I get to see Kylo Ren’s plans fail.”

“And?” Finn prompted.

Hux huffed. “And I get to kill that bastard Pryde with my own damn blaster.”

“Huh, I knew there was something more murder-y to it.” Finn responded.

“As far as ulterior motives go, Finn, that’s not the worst. Given the circumstances of course.” Poe surmised. “And Hux is right, the more First Order or Final Order High Ups we can take out the better our chances of winning. If there’s any chance that without Pryde their troops will be poorly organised and not working together properly, we have to take it.”

Chewie growled an aggressive agreement.

“… Well I did hear from other troopers that Pryde was a dick.” Finn relented, looking up from the metal he was holding and finally paying Hux some attention.

Hux smirked.

“Don’t you go looking so happy, we didn’t love you either.” Finn responded.

“But you respected me.” Hux said with pride, “because I was an efficient leader.”

“Yes, some of us did, but not for that reason.” Finn admitted reluctantly, “It was because you didn’t treat us like canon-fodder as much as the other Generals… Oh don’t look so shocked, most of us knew you didn’t care about us as individuals. You wanted to preserve numbers of personnel. I reckon you were just looking at the budget and thinking about how much it costs to train a new trooper…” Finn paused then said grudgingly, “but some troopers said you were the most human of the Generals, that maybe our lives did mean something to you.” Finn finished with a shrug.

Hux realised after a split second that his features were arranged in a profoundly shocked expression, he quickly shuttered off the emotion. It was complimentary, but his father would have seen it as an insult. He’d have thought Armitage weak to care about the individual lives of soldiers under his command. But Poe was smiling at him, just slightly, and Hux felt a gentle warm feeling he could not deny. As though for the first time in his life what Brendol Hux would have thought was starting to matter less. Hux found himself almost smiling in response and immediately stopped himself. It would do no good to allow others to know they could affect him.

“I’m going to get back to work.”

“Sure, I’ll come with you.” Poe responded, still looking at Hux.

They worked in the engine room companionably for the rest of the day, Poe seeming to have fully learnt what Hux had taught him the previous day. Aside from a short break to eat lunch as a group of four, all sitting on the ostentatious living room sofas that Maratelle would have hated them eating on. It was a very strange feeling to Hux; to work in such an uncompetitive group. For once he wasn’t planning strategies to manipulate those around him first before they could do the same to him. It was a warm yet terrifying feeling, and Hux kept fighting the urge to plan and back-up-plan ways to get back at Poe when the rebels inevitably turned on him. He felt at ease around Poe and part of him hated that and part of him just wanted to bask in the feeling like a Nudj would in the warm swamps of Dagobah.

Hux watched the muscles beneath the tan muscles of Poe’s arm flex as he screwed a component into place. He was just beginning to really appreciate working with Poe, and it had nothing to do with his looks, of course, when Poe turned slightly and made eye contact.

“What are you daydreaming about?” Poe asked smugly.

Hux’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t daydreaming! I don’t daydream,” he responded hotly.

“Sure, sure.” Poe smirked, “Its ok.” Poe wiggled his eyebrows, “You can admit you were checking me out.” 

“I would, if I was, but I wasn’t, so I won’t.” Hux said, red faced and cursing his awkwardness. “Kriff.”

Hux’s swear dissipated the tension and Poe fell about laughing. 

Hux considered Poe. 

Poe made eye contact with him as he was doubled over laughing and Hux decided he wasn’t being mocked, that instead they were laughing together at the awkwardness of the situation. He allowed himself a slight chuckle.

“You have a nice laugh Hugs.”

“Are you trying to flirt with me?” Hux said stiffly, but despite his tone he still found himself moving closer to Poe.

“What? You just caught on?” Poe chuckled. “The kiss the other day didn’t give me away?”

“But why?”

“Attraction, intrigue… you’re pretty damn fine Hugs.”

Hux felt himself gaping. He couldn’t detect an ulterior motive and Poe didn’t sound like he was lying, but perhaps he was a very good liar. But then Hux was a very good lie-detector too, he’d been around enough dishonest individuals to pick up that skill… So, what if Poe meant it, and he just had odd taste. Hux supposed it was a possibility.

Poe used the opportunity of Hux’s pause to close the small gap between them, looking intently at Hux’s lips. Hux licked his lips with a measure of nervousness, then he closed the gap. Their second kiss was more urgent than the first. Hux attempted to gain control of the kiss a little more this time. After several moments they broke apart slowly. 

“I should have known you’d be the dominant type,” Poe said, laughter in his eyes.

“What, you just caught on? I can’t imagine what gave me away.” Hux parroted. 

Poe chuckled, “I was thinking… we don’t need to rush with the repairs too much anymore.” Poe steadily maintained eye contact with Hux and Hux felt his cheeks heat. “We’ve got two more days to fix the Falcon than we really need.”

Hux raised an eyebrow, feigning disinterest, “What are you suggesting?”

“We could grab a drink from that massive alcohol cellar I found? You could try not to get as wasted as you did with the jet juice. Might be a laugh. And then-”

Poe was cut off by Finn bursting through the door, “We’ve done it! Fixed the hull casing around the hyperdrive and the broken section of the hyperdrive!” He clapped gleefully

Then Finn looked between Poe and Hux and seemed to take in how close together they were standing, he shot Poe a look that Hux felt said ’seriously???’.

“Anyway….” Finn continued slightly more awkwardly, “Did I just hear something about drinks? If they’re on the house we’re in aren’t we buddy?” Finn said, nudging Chewie companionably. 

Chewie shoved Finn back, though judging from Finn’s stumble Hux assumed the Wookie had put a little too much force behind it accidentally.

“Wonderful, a double date.” Poe muttered at a volume only just audible to Hux, and not to Finn who was still in the doorway. 

Hux snorted.

“Huh?” Finn asked

“I was just checking with Hux that the drinks are on the house.” Poe responded

“Of course, Maratelle and her…. guests, will be the only ones to drink them otherwise.” Hux stepped out of the engine compartment and into the corridor leading to the more spacious falcon atrium. As the others followed he called over his shoulder “And I do hate to think my money is being spent on her any more than is necessary.” Hux responded smoothly.

“I did wonder about that Hux… why do you provide for her?” Finn asked.

“I have to?” Hux responded, a question mark in his voice.

“No, you don’t.” Finn replied, sounding confused and slightly suspicious.

Hux paused in contemplation having now reached the atrium. Why did he feel such a sense of indebtedness to Maratelle? It’s not like she’d ever been kind to him, or really even provided for him. But Brendol had said…. But what did that matter now? Hux’s mind whirred around in confusion for some minutes, he felt like he was unravelling a giant knot he had never known was a part of his mind. How many times could these Rebels invert his understanding of relationships and families in a few short days?

“Nah, you don’t have to.” Poe crossed his arms and leant against the wall of the atrium, “She seems like a mean old bat, I doubt she’d do the same thing for you Hugs.” Poe responded.

“Certainly not the nicest.” Finn confirmed.

“No… she wouldn’t.” Hux agreed, turning away from the rebels “But my father always said I had to…” Hux murmured, realising even to his own ears how stupid that sounded.

“Your father? Who you had killed.” Poe stepped closer to Hux looking like he wanted to shake him. “Yet you’re still here worrying about what he might think of your household choices?” 

Hux froze for too long as the gears in his mind spun round. Of course! He didn’t have to do as Brendol said anymore, it seemed logical now. He didn’t have to obey a dead man. And yet it also went against Hux’s core values, his conditioning. Hux stared at a patch of the Flacon’s grey plastisteel floor…perhaps this meant that everything he had ever learnt, everything he had been conditioned to be, how he had been taught to act.… None of it might really be him? It had all become suspect, in need of interrogation. Who was Armitage Hux if you took Brendol out of his psyche?

What felt to Hux like several revolutions of his brain inside his skull later he looked at the group. “Well I don’t know about you, but now I really need that drink.” Hux said, a candid admission for him, but he was feeling brave. Was wanting a drink a weakness? What would Brendol Hux think? Did it matter? Perhaps it didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies again for the very slow update. Please go thank my wonderful beta MidnightWichtlein for getting me inspired to keep writing and keeping me going. They're one in a million.


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